


The Bubble

by ArtemisArcher83



Series: B Series [1]
Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 16:45:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 29,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4713119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisArcher83/pseuds/ArtemisArcher83
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(As posted on FFN) Myka experiences hallucinations and then disappears. HG, no longer a fan of the Warehouse, is recruited to help search for her ex-lover. Set somewhere at the end of S4, but ignores most canon after mid S3. So, no Sykes, unnecessary sacrifice or Paracelsus, though Nate (gag) is mentioned. HG/Myka endgame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

_Myka glanced surreptitiously in the rear-view mirror at the woman in the back seat. For once, the agent had let her partner drive but after twenty minutes of being unable to control her urges to peek behind her, she was beginning to regret that decision._

_She found her thoughts drifting again, her gaze settling on glossy raven hair and a slender jaw, to high cheekbones, an elegant nose and lips drawn together in thought._

_Myka found herself contemplating things that had never crossed her mind before in regards to another woman. Before her imagination could run away with her again though, the woman’s thoughtful expression became a knowing smirk and the agent found herself gazing into expressive eyes. Blushing, knowing she’d been caught, Myka took a long steadying breath and sank down a little in her seat._

_“How much longer, Pete?” She cringed at the attempt to cover her embarrassment but couldn’t very well take it back._

_Her partner gave her a strange look. “Well, it’s been about five minutes since you last asked so...” he kept his eyes mostly on the road but every now and then shot her a concerned glance. “You doin’ ok, Mykes?” He asked after another short silence._

_“Fine, Pete!” She responded a little too vehemently. “I’m fine. I think I just really need a good night’s sleep.”_

_“I might be able to help you with that, Agent Bering,” a suggestive voice piped up from the back._

_Pete’s eyebrows shot up at the first thought that popped into his head while his fellow agent coughed and turned red._

_“Man I’d like to see that,” Pete muttered to himself, forgetting both women’s excellent hearing._

_“Pete!” She hissed._

_“You would like to see me brew a pot of lavender and camomile tea for Myka?” HG Wells queried from her position behind the two agents, feigning innocence for her comment._

_Myka breathed a sigh as she ignored Agent Lattimer’s spluttering change of topic. For a while, she felt relief, until she chanced one last look in the mirror and met with a sultry gaze that told her that her first reaction had been the correct one and that Helena G Wells knew exactly what she was doing to the younger woman._

“Myka... Myka? Hey Myka!” Agent Pete Lattimer’s voice carried down the short alleyway, breaking Agent Bering from her trip down memory lane.

“What, Pete?” She responded irritably.

Ever since they’d arrived in Paris ont his artefact hunt, Myka had been getting increasingly lost in her memories of Helena. Since returning from Boone the last time, she’d forced herself to let go of any lingering hope that Agent Wells would return to the warehouse and that they might finally explore their mutual attraction, beyond the physical. It had taken many nights full of tears and sleeplessness and days filled with distracting tasks but finally she’d reached a place where, if not happy, she was at least not miserable any more.

So why was she suddenly having these seemingly random visions of things long passed?

Clearing her mind again, Myka approached her partner and mimicked his action of pulling on purple gloves.

“Look at this,” he motioned towards a dark patch on the ground, bringing her attention to the scorch marks that had become the modus operandi for their missing artefact.

Myka drew a finger around the outer edge of the burnt area, gauging the size of the shallow hole. “They’re getting bigger,” she observed before directing her gaze to the surrounding area and then pausing on something oddly familiar on a nearby wall. “Pete, look there,” she exclaimed, her tone a mixture of excitement and dread.

Pete shuffled over to the handprint his partner had spotted and began inspecting it. He took a digital camera from his pocket after a few seconds and snapped a picture. “Is that what I think it is?” He finally asked. “I’ve got a bad feeling,” he added. “And it’s not just because you made us skip lunch.”

“The artefact is getting more powerful. Whoever is using it has begun to imitate the behaviours of early man.” She stood up and levelled a no-nonsense expression at her partner. “The first Fire Flint isn’t just helping this guy to light his barbecue anymore.” The loud rumbling of Agent Lattimer’s stomach broke the seriousness of the situation. “Pete, really?” She shook her head in disapproval but wasn’t really surprised.

Pete followed Myka to their car, protesting as they passed various shops selling food items. “You made me miss lunch. And you said ‘barbecue’!” He said this as if it explained everything. “Bar-be-cue Myka... It’s like my kryptonite!”

“Fine,” Agent Bering acquiesced with feigned annoyance. “I know a nice little back street cafe that does amazing steaks.”

Pete let out a noise of utmost delight and lifted Myka into his bear-like arms, ignoring her very vocal protests. “I love you Mykes.”

“Lattimer, put me down!” Agent Bering roared, drawing the attention of several passersby. Once her feet were back on solid ground, she huffed and fussed over the straightness of her jacket. Scrunching up her face comically, she jabbed her brother-like friend in the chest and smirked at the exaggerated expression of pain that immediately took over his face.

“Ow! Leave me alone with your super-jabby girl fists,” he demanded in his weakest voice.

Myka was just about to make a teasing comment when her vision blurred and her equilibrium faltered. She had enough sense about her to know that Pete had caught her suddenly lifeless body, before her consciousness was thrust back in time, again.


	2. Chapter 2

_Myka took the laptop from HG Wells, flipped it over and turned it on._

_She had to focus! Had to ignore the fact that this brilliant woman; the ‘father’ of science fiction; one of her childhood idols and possibly the most attractive person she’d ever met, was standing close enough that Myka could hear her heart beat._

_She swallowed a gasp as HG leaned over her shoulder to get a closer look at the computer screen and continued to breathe through her mouth to avoid becoming distracted by the intoxicating scent of Wells’ perfume._

_She was doing fine until she felt the hand in the middle of her back. Even as she continued to respond to their conversation, Myka was hyper-aware of every movement of that hand..._

When she finally became aware of her surroundings again, she found herself looking up at the sky and her partner’s worried expression. “Uh, Pete? What happened?” She used his shoulders to pull herself up and leant against him as he waited until she felt ok to stand.

“Thank God, Myka,” he breathed in relief. “I promise I won’t spin you around anymore, ok? Just don’t do that again.” He stared intently at her to make sure she wasn’t going to black-out again. “What happened Mykes?”

Myka tried not to blush as she recalled the intimate feeling of Helena’s hand almost caressing her back. “It was a memory.”

“Must have been some memory,” he commented, the teasing tone creeping back into his voice now he could see that his partner was recovering.

“It was nothing,” Myka insisted. “Just an old case.”

“We should mention it to Artie,” Pete suggested, already reaching for his Farnsworth. “It might be artefact related.”

Myka began to panic and reached for Pete’s arm to stop him. Artie would want details and she wasn’t prepared to discuss her past involvement with his least favourite warehouse agent.

She managed to distract Pete with either food or women for the remaining two days it took them to track down and neutralise the Fire Flint. She was aware that he likely knew what she was up to but he gamely played along, taking advantage of her desperate need not to revisit the topic by dragging her to every boulangerie and patisserie they passed.

She knew that it wouldn’t last; he would eventually begin interrogating her again – probably on the plane ride home where she wouldn’t be able to escape – but until he had a bad vibe about it, he would give her time.

Thankfully, the few ‘episodes’ the warehouse agent experienced after that occurred either while she was in her hotel room, or as Pete was driving them through Paris, where he was concentrating so hard on not hitting suicidal cyclists or scooters that he failed to notice his partner’s temporary absences.

Myka knew that she should be more worried about these lapses in concentration. What if it happened while she was driving or chasing down a dangerous target? How was she going to discover the cause or how long it was going to last? For the first time in her life, Myka was not interested in the causes and effects; all she could focus on was the memory of HG Wells’ welcome haunting presence.

Not that all of her revisited memories carried the same teasing theme. After the first few lapses that had had Myka taking cold showers to wash off their effects, there had been calmer, sadder, friendlier ones that made her long for her friend for other reasons. The last one had taken her back to Egypt, to that moment in Warehouse Two before HG had shown her true intentions, when Myka had pulled the woman from her artefact-induced hallucination and HG had cried bitter, desperate tears for her lost child.

Whatever was causing her condition, she felt like she needed to see it through to its conclusion. That was what her thoughts chanted when she found herself walking through the streets of Paris alone on their last afternoon before journeying home.

Something was calling to her. There were no voices in her head or images of things past this time. She’d simply been packing her suitcase and reading treasured extracts from her personally signed copy of ‘The Time Machine’, when none of it seemed to matter anymore. Her only priority became leaving the hotel and walking. Just walking.

It was this single-mindedness that pulled her off the main thoroughfare and down a narrow side street. She was two thirds of the way in when she felt the need to stop and listen.

There was nothing. And yet, she waited.

 


	3. Chapter 3

It was all hands on deck the moment Artie closed his Farnsworth, disconnecting Agent Lattimer’s call. Myka was missing.

Swivelling round on his chair, he tried hard to ignore the churning in the pit of his stomach, just as he had to ignore the sharp lines of worry on his young protégé’s face as she looked to him for instruction.

“Artie? Come on, what are we gonna look for first man? I can tap into the CCTV; check her accounts for new purchases; look for other missing persons... we gotta do something!” Claudia was panicking. Her colleagues were her family; Artie like a father, Pete and Steve like brothers and Myka and Leena like sisters. She had lost enough family during her formative years to motivate her into immediate action.

“Check the CCTV first. Pete gave us a fairly short window; you should be able to see them entering the hotel and Myka exiting within an hour,” he watched with pride as the red head jumped to work, her fingers flying across the key board. “I’ll check her accounts; I’ve got clearance.”

Claudia glanced over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow at him before swiftly returning to her board. “Like I need clearance to be able to do that,” she scoffed.

“I meant that I can do it legally,” he groused, emphasising the legal aspect. “We’ll get onto the missing persons when you’ve finished. I’ll also start a search for artefacts that are known to be missing in France, Pete mentioned she’d been losing consciousness and slipping into memories.” The room echoed with the sound of his teeth grinding; he hated it when his agents neglected to report odd incidences.

“For how long?” The hacker queried with a frown.

Artie began to turn a funny shade of puce as he tried in vain to control his temper. “Long enough that I’m going to give them both inventory for a month when they get back!”

* * * * *

Pete had seen his partner entering her room shortly after three pm. They’d just had lunch – a soufflé for Myka and two helpings of steak for Pete from his partner’s favourite back street cafe – and had returned to the hotel to pack. Pete had made himself busy in the lobby for an hour, having only needed ten minutes to fill his suitcase, while he waited as usual for his fellow agent to alphabetise her underwear, or whatever else took her so long to fold a week’s worth of clothing.

Knowing that Myka was compulsive with her need to be punctual, Pete began to worry when he was forced to stop flirting with the receptionist and realised that their flight was in two hours. They should have been out the door half an hour ago. He still hadn’t felt any vibes at that point to indicate whether his partner was in any trouble but he was soon outside Myka’s room, waiting for her to answer. By the time he’d managed to get a maitre d to open the door, his partner was long gone.

Agent Lattimer was at a loss. There was nothing in Myka’s room to suggest foul play or that she had had a plan in mind when she apparently left in the midst of packing her bag. He knew his partner well enough to know that she would leave breadcrumbs for him if her absence was related to a case. So what did that leave?

After years of having had Agent Bering’s sharp mind picking apart and arranging all the facts in record time, Pete found that his detective skills were a little rusty. On the flip side though, he’d learnt a great deal from the woman’s brilliant reasoning and he used this to his advantage.

Hours of research and investigating quickly turned into a day... and then two.

Agent Jinks joined him on the second day and began to assist with re-interviewing witnesses. He quickly filtered out any half or untruths and for a while, the pair thought they had a lead but it turned out to be nothing more than a case of a husband not wanting his wife to find out where he’d been all weekend.

Pete’s worry and increasing guilt stretched so far that on day four he found himself yelling at Artie through the Farnsworth in the middle of the hotel lobby. Steve had calmly directed his colleague back to his room where they had set up their temporary base of operations and took the antique looking communicator from his shaking hands.

“Artie,” he greeted with his most serious expression. “Is there anything new you can tell us?”

“We’ve been through the CCTV footage again. There’s nothing there we haven’t seen before but Claudia is sure that there is something ‘off’. She’s currently cross-referencing missing persons of the last ten years with security footage.” Artie paused as if he really wanted to say more but changed his mind with a shake of the head. “Anything else on your end?” He continued hopefully.

Steve sighed and repeated what they already knew out of habit. “We’ve got no obvious motive, no money trail, and no suspects. No one saw her, not even the hotel cameras.” He paused to watch Pete shuffle out of the room again and sighed, finally giving up his facade of calm now he was alone. “It has to be an artefact Artie.” He concluded as he turned back to his boss. “But we don’t really have much to go on to tell us what it might be.”

As Agent Jinks was eliminating the possibilities with Artie and making a list of things to look out for, across the hall, Pete was once again in Myka’s room. They had tried to leave as much in place as they could while looking through her belongings for clues. He always tried to be respectful when investigating any case but it seemed especially important when it was his friend... his sister.

Sitting on her bed, he glanced idly around the room, praying for a moment of inspiration. All seemed lost and he was about to return to see what Steve planned to do next when his gaze fell on a book sitting on the bedside table.

It was an ancient copy of one of HG’s classics. Pete remembered liking the movie. He’d wanted a chance to sit in that prop and pretend to be travelling back to medieval times where he would rescue the damsels and eat at the king’s table or to the future where he might be the last hope of a population dying because most of the men had been killed by some tragedy. His needs were simple, he knew that. He opened the cover carefully and reread the inscription on the inside of the cover.

                _May you always find everlasting wonder,_

_Your HG Wells_

Pete lingered over the ‘your’ at the bottom as he had done the first time. He’d had his suspicions about Myka and HG. Particularly when Agent Wells had been carted off by the regents and Myka had been unable to remain behind without her, but he’d never asked. If Mykes had managed to put it behind her then he wasn’t about to drag up painful memories.

He flipped idly through the pages and was about to put the book back down when something slipped out. His first thought was that it was a page that had torn from the spine. His second thought was ‘I’m so dead!’ Though when he reached down to retrieve it he recognised HG’s handwriting and realised that it was a letter. Pulling it closer, he took in the series of three lined verses and hesitated as he contemplated the risk he was taking in reading a poem written for Myka by her...lover?

Deciding that any possibility of a lead was worth Myka’s wrath, he began to read.

                _My darling Myka,_

_In darkness I waited,_

_Alone._

_No thoughts but my own._

_Into the light I fell,_

_Blinded._

_Of the evils of men, reminded._

_In your arms for a time,_

_Tamed._

_My soul’s sorrow lamed._

_Love resisted by pain,_

_Raged._

_My hatred uncaged._

_Caught in your gaze,_

_Unmade._

_Of this feeling, afraid._

_In your eyes I will find,_

_Redemption._

_I shall not mention..._

_How much..._

_I miss..._

_Your touch..._

 

“Huh,” he muttered to himself once he’d finished. He waited, thinking back to Myka’s recent behaviour and was hit suddenly by a thrill of inspiration.

Memories. Myka had been disappearing into memories while they had been investigating the Fire Flint. That artefact however, didn’t have the power to make people remember past events.

Pete was on his feet in an instant and charging back into his room with book and letter in either hand.

“HG!” He exclaimed, charging at his startled colleague.

Steve started in confusion, holding out a hand to halt Pete’s advance. “Erm, ok. You do know I’m a guy, right?”

Lattimer thrust the letter at Agent Jinks, saying simply, “Read.”

Steve’s eyes travelled the length of the paper, taking in the same intimate sentiments shared between the two women and immediately wondering why he was being made to read it. “Are you sure we should be looking at this? You can’t just go through all of Myka’s things just because she isn’t here to kick your ass.”

“Myka never kicks my...” He stopped at Steve’s expression of incredulity. “Yeah yeah, ok,” he acquiesced.

“So Myka and HG had a thing?” Jinksy asked, drawing the obvious conclusion.

“Apparently,” Pete pulled a face. “I knew there was something but she never tells me anything,” he huffed.

“I wonder why,” Steve muttered.

“We need HG here,” Lattimer continued, ignoring the comment. “Don’t ask me why. I’ve been low on the mojo since we found our artefact but I’ve got a good feeling about this.”


	4. Chapter 4

Myka turned slowly on the spot, calmly taking in her surroundings. What was this place and how had she come to be here? She felt as if she was waking up from a deep sleep and yet nothing around her seemed as if it belonged in reality.

The buildings shifted like branches in a gentle breeze, their solidity fluctuated, giving the agent fleeting impressions of endless streets and sky beyond.

Shadowy figures strolled passed without a care for her sudden appearance in their world. Starting forward, Myka moved curiously out of the shadow of a building and stood in the middle of the street for a moment before nonchalantly deciding to turn left and follow a group of figures, wondering fleetingly where they might be going.

She wasn’t sure how long she spent meandering down side roads and over grassy expanses. At one point she had completely forgotten what she was doing and stopped dead, staring blankly out over a clear lake. Time seemed to have no meaning. Myka felt no hunger or fatigue; she wasn’t worried, angry or determined to find her way out. The curiosity she’d felt before beginning her wandering walk to this place had faded into nothingness the moment her mind decided to focus on something else. There was a numbing sort of peace filling her veins and as she observed the large expanse of water before her, she was taken in by the notion that her soul was being reflected in that calm expanse.

Movement on the opposite bank caught Myka’s attention. She lifted her gaze sluggishly and she peered with strained effort, her eyes needing longer than normal to focus. There was a flash of ebony and ivory between the trunks of trees lining the far side of the lake, the fabric of a dress caught on a breeze and hair trailing a petite body. Then quite suddenly, it was gone. She searched the far bank for a few moments more before something else caught her attention and the mysterious figure became no more than a wisp of memory.

* * * * *

 

Claudia glanced out of the driver’s side window at the house she’d pulled up in front of and rechecked the address with the one she’d hastily jotted down that morning.

“Yup,” she muttered to herself. “I don’t care what century you were born in; nobody can hide from The Donovan.”

She killed the engine, stepped out and studiously checked that she’d locked it properly; Jinksy would kill her if she let anything bad happen to his car.

Past the white-picket fence, she trotted up to the front door and rang the bell in a series of little jabs, reminding her of the chord changes in one of her favourite songs. She began to hum and drummed her fingers against her thighs as she waited.

It was late in the afternoon so Claudia knew that HG, or Emily, or whatever else she was calling herself these days, would likely be inside. Artie had gruffly ordered her to bring the Victorian woman back to the Warehouse at all costs and the junior honorary agent had no intention of returning empty handed just to have to listen to another of his foreboding lectures.

Movement on the other side of the door drew a short huff of relief from the red head and she shuffled from foot to foot in eager anticipation.

HG’s ready smile slipped slightly as she recognised her visitor. Her open body language shifted, her shoulders tensing as her arms folded across her body. “Claudia. To what do I owe this honour?” She asked reservedly.

It wasn’t that the ex-agent was displeased to see the young woman on her doorstep but she feared what the red head’s sudden appearance might mean for her immediate future. Not much good for her ever seemed to come from the Warehouse.

“HG, Hey!” Claudia waved the tips of her fingers in greeting. “Bet I’m the last person you expected to see huh?” She grinned nervously.

“I was expecting to greet the delivery service with my new batch of tea-leaves so please excuse my disappointment; I was rather looking forward to a pleasant brew.” Her posture began to relax as she overcame her initial panic. Helping out her former colleagues didn’t necessarily have to involve going to the Warehouse. She immediately thought of Myka and knew she would not be able to resist offering her expertise. “Would I be correct in assuming that there is some sort of crisis afoot and that you are here to beg for my assistance?” She stepped aside as she spoke, shut the door behind the jumpy young red head and led her through to the kitchen.

Claudia smiled at HG’s cocky smirk but her expression quickly sobered as she prepared to deliver her message. “Pete and Myka went to Paris to find some caveman artefact that lights fires...”

The ex-agent’s interest piqued. “The Fire Flint? I’d almost come to believe that its existence was mere legend.”

“Right, well they bagged and tagged it no probs. Well, not ‘no probs’, Petie got singed and almost lost an eyebrow but...”

“Claudia, dear. Just get to the point please,” HG demanded gently.

“Myka’s missing,” Claudia answered quickly and braced herself for the Victorian’s response.

HG felt her stomach drop and her blood run cold. At the expression of trepidation on the red head’s face, she guessed that her fear and anger must be on prominent display. She closed her eyes tightly and breathed evenly through her nose until she felt calm enough to speak without taking her precarious emotional state out on the young agent.

As soon as she felt capable, the older woman ordered Claudia to follow her upstairs. “Tell me everything,” she requested as she pulled a bag from under her bed and began opening drawers.

“Honestly HG, we’ve got next to nothing.” Claudia plonked herself on the bed and pulled a throw-cushion to her chest. “They were supposed to be heading home. Pete was waiting on Myka in the lobby of their hotel and when she didn’t turn up, he went looking for her and couldn’t find her. Her clothes and stuff were half-packed and it didn’t look like anyone had broken in. There’s no camera footage in or outside the hotel and no one saw her leaving.”

The raven-haired woman slowed her movements, appearing thoughtful for a moment before returning to her task. After returning from a quick trip to the bathroom and zipping closed her bag, she turned to face her visitors.

“Why have you come to me?” She enquired with concern. “What exactly do you think I’ll be able to help you with?”

Claudia hopped down from the bed, still holding the cushion. She shrugged. “Pete had a vibe.” She fiddled with a tassel for a while before tossing the cushion behind her. She hoped that HG wasn’t going to probe any further; Steve had told her about the book and the poem and she didn’t want to have to explain either.

The writer and inventor stood staring at Claudia for several seconds, waiting to see if she was going to elaborate. When nothing more was forthcoming, she clapped her hands together, muttered a subdued ‘righty-ho then’ and proceeded out the door.


	5. Chapter 5

There was something she was supposed to be doing, besides just sitting. Something that may or may not be important but she couldn’t seem to focus long enough to grasp onto what it might be. She gazed into nothing for an indeterminable amount of time, occasionally wondering what she might do next, when her attention drew to a figure that sat down beside her.

“Hello? Young lady?”

A voice dragged through the air, eventually registering in Myka’s brain. Her head turned sluggishly in its direction; her immediate thought – _I can see you_.

“Well, that’s a good start,” the figure chuckled quietly and seemed to smile.

“Did I say that out loud?” Myka frowned, trying to remember. She made a bigger effort to concentrate on her companion and soon found her mind and vision clearing. Before long, she recognised that she was talking to an elderly man with salt and pepper hair and kind eyes. “Oh,” her surprise at the sudden clarity slipped out.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to startle you.” He reached out a hand in greeting. “My name’s Stan. Welcome to Limbo.”

Agent Bering held her hand out automatically to shake Stan’s while her brain tried to catch up with his words. “Limbo?”

He smiled sadly. “We don’t actually know what this place is but it’s as good a name as any.”

Myka blinked slowly, attempting to force her thoughts to work faster. “We?” She asked, becoming increasingly frustrated with her ability to form sentences, or the lack thereof. She dropped her head into her hands and groaned. The sound seemed overly loud and alien in this place and she immediately held a hand over her mouth and looked around for any sign of a foreboding authority figure.

“Don’t you worry now Miss. Far as we can tell, there’s not much here that’ll do you harm. As for the ‘we’ part, I’d be more than happy to introduce you to the family.” He stood slowly and offered her a hand to help her to stand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Agent Bering,” she answered automatically; some of her senses beginning to return to her. “Sorry... I mean, Myka... I’m Myka.”

* * * * *

The temporarily reinstated Agent Wells sighed heavily as she leant her head back in her seat and prayed that she could fall asleep or that time would move faster. “Tempus fugit indeed,” she scoffed.

She had refused to step foot in the Warehouse so Artie had been forced to meet her at Leena’s where he gave her a brief run down before shoving her tickets at her and sending her on her way.

In her formative years as an agent, she had treasured this time before a mission to really get into the case, to go over all the evidence and getting lost in reports. She’d been anxious to get into the thick of the action too, but the anticipation had been half of the fun.

She knew exactly when that had changed and now found the wait almost unbearable. But this time it was especially difficult. There was no evidence to study or reports to pour over and the victim (if indeed she was as such), was someone about whom she cared very much.

She didn’t want to think about Myka. She’s spent too long trying not to think about Myka. Yet, it was all she could focus on. The fluffy clouds reminded her of unruly hair in the morning, which led her to the nights she’d spent running her fingers through it and days resisting the temptation to do that very thing.

For a while she drifted through every pleasure shared with the agile agent but invariably there came the moment of her downfall. Unresolved grief for her child had amalgamated with her hatred of the world and all its evils, until she had been certain that not even love could save her.

Except it had, in a way. Refusing to end Myka’s life had forced her to see an alternative to ending the world. Had provided her with a mirror; through Myka’s eyes she’d seen herself clearly. Though by then it had been too late and no matter how much the other woman might have later protested, Helena could no longer see herself with someone as pure and untainted as Myka Bering. She had accepted her lonely fate.

Nate had provided her with a suitable excuse to stay away from Myka and the Warehouse, and Adelaide had been a pleasant distraction, helping Helena to stick to her convictions. Myka’s astute observations had never left her though and after the agents had returned to South Dakota, she’d been unable to continue the charade she’d created. In good conscious, she’d made her apologies to Nathaniel, promised to keep in touch with his daughter and finally dipped into her own long forgotten funds to rent a small abode in Rapid City.

Three months later and she still hadn’t told her old friends that they were once again residing in the same state.

Helena was exhausted and edgy by the time she arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport and needed a great deal of effort not to curse at every person who pushed and jostled her as she collected her reserved tickets and boarded the RER to the Gare de Nord. From there, she exited onto the main thoroughfare and took off towards La Fayette.

She worked diligently on following the directions she’d been given and ignored the gnawing in her stomach every time her gaze fell on a familiar street name. This was not the Paris she had once known; was not the city she’d gleefully explored in her youth. If she repeated it often enough she might eventually believe that this was not the hellish place that had robbed her of her most prized treasure and that it wasn’t somehow fated to rob her of another.

Helena went straight to her room the moment she arrived at the hotel and slumped on her bed; spending a few minutes catching her breath and mentally preparing herself. Knowing that time was of the essence though, she forced her body to move, first visiting the washroom to douse her face with cold water then seeking out the other two agents.

Pete was overly tactile, even for his standards and dragged HG into a crushing hug the moment she stepped through the door. She patted his back awkwardly before forcing him off and holding him at arms’ length.

“I hear you’re the one I have to thank for my presence here,” she informed him sternly, quickly regretting her choice of words when his maniacal jubilance was replaced by a look of abject desolation. “I’m sorry Peter; I meant your ‘vibe’. I was not accusing you of having been negligent. None of this is your fault,” she added kindly, holding his gaze until his stiffness abated and he nodded in agreement.

“Thanks HG.” He stepped away with a sad smile, giving her back her space. “I needed to hear that. It means a lot, especially coming from you.”

Agent Wells frowned at this last comment. “What exactly do you mean ‘especially coming from me’?”

Pete’s eyebrows shot up and he suddenly became evasive. He looked to Agent Jinks for assistance but Steve simply shook his head. “Well, I mean because you were close... with Myka,” Pete tried to find some way of clarifying his intention without being clear.

“Ahh.” HG suddenly understood that her connection to their missing friend was being given a greater significance because they had once been lovers. Since that was a topic that she didn’t want to revisit, she decided to change it. “Very well then. Thank you for your consideration but I assure you, it is not necessary. Shall we perhaps return to the investigation? I brought a few gadgets with me that I think might help.”

While Agent Lattimer was breathing a sigh of relief, Helena began unzipping pockets and examining the objects she pulled out before placing them on the table in front of them. Pete crept over like a curious puppy and reached out a hand to play with one of the gizmos, and then immediately pulled it back with a yelp when the inventor slapped it away.

“It’s like having Myka back already,” he grumbled.

Helena smirked. “I will remember to tell her you said so.” She turned back to the array of objects and began to explain what they did.

The first one they tried was much like the durational spectrometer though was able to detect residual pheromone traces up to two weeks old. There proved to be masses of evidence of Myka’s inhabitancy inside her room but anything outside of the room predated her disappearance.

They meticulously tried each invention with HG becoming increasingly animated as they collected more data, until at last she fell into an armchair and began reading over their findings.

“Have you found anything?” Steve asked before long. When he didn’t receive an answer right away he shared a look with Pete before trying again. “HG?”

“Hmm?” Helena responded even as she continued to frown at her paper. “This can’t be right...” she mumbled, her expression turning to concern and then dread.

Pete placed a hand on her shoulder to get her full attention. “Would you like to share with the class?”

“Oh, I do apologise,” she exclaimed as she got quickly to her feet and placed her papers on the table. “I think I’m beginning to understand why your vibe indicated that I should be here.”

She took a pen and began drawing a series of arrows and circles on their map of Paris. Claudia had sent along her findings regarding unexplained disappearances of the last decade, many of which covered a small radius near the agents’ current location. Steve and Pete had diligently added them to their map. With HG’s added data, a pattern soon began to emerge.

“The figures are astounding and I don’t quite know how to explain the behaviour of this... curiosity.” She leaned in closer to examine the street names, willing the churning unease in the pit of her stomach to abate. No matter how much she tried though, she couldn’t shake the conclusion she’d come to. “Somehow, whatever unfortunate event has befallen Myka, I do believe that my time machine is involved.”

“What!? How is that possible? It’s locked away in the Warehouse,” Pete insisted, though he was very tempted to call Artie so he could check.

“And how can you know just by looking at this?” Agent Jinks gestured to the map and the writer’s inventions, his gaze lingering on the gadgets as if he expected them to suddenly come alive.

Helena leant back against the desk and stared at their findings again. There was a very clear ring forming where they had placed their colour-coded dots, the effect made it seem as if they were rippling out from a particular point. She didn’t have to look again to know where exactly that spot was; her gut was telling her everything she needed to know.

“Gentlemen,” HG began in a slightly more serious manner. “I am quite sure that my time machine is indeed still locked safely in the Warehouse but I did once use it to travel to Paris...” She pointed to the centre of their circled area. “To this street here. Every invention of mine carries a particular signature. What’s more, each invention of mine can ‘recognise’ another. They are clearly telling me that they’ve ‘seen’ the time machine’s signature.”

“Your gizmos talk to each other?” Pete shook off his incredulity. “No, don’t bother answering that. I doubt I’d understand anyway,” he finished with a grumble.

Steve studied the desperate expression in HG’s eyes and almost felt her pain. He knew there was something she hadn’t told them yet. “You know more than you’re letting on.”

Helena shot him an angry, panicked look but she was saved from answering when Pete uncharacteristically put everything together first. “You used the time-machine to come back here to save your daughter.”

The writer stared silently at the ground, her breathing forcefully slow and deep as she resisted the memory of her failure. She retold the story she had once recited to Claudia when she’d sent Myka and Pete back to 1961, the morbid tale slipping in a detached manner off her tongue. She smiled sadly and then cleared her throat to rid her tone of the distant melancholy it held. “... I watched it all, was in the house, and couldn’t changed a blasted thing.” Her voice broke on the last word and the pen in her hand cracked with the force of her grip. “Now, because of me, someone else I... Myka is trapped lord knows where.”

Attempting to recover from the retelling of the worst days of her life and her almost slip regarding her true feelings for agent Bering, Helena began repacking her inventions and then pulled on her jacket. “I would appreciate having this mystery solved sooner rather than later, so come along gentlemen, chop-chop!”

Pete and Steve swiftly grabbed what they needed, carefully tucking teslas into holsters and neutralisation bags into pockets as they hastened to follow the Victorian inventor out the door.


	6. Chapter 6

By the time she and Stan had reached their destination, Myka could swear that she was really in the centre of Paris and not some bizarre mirror world. The clueless docility she’d arrived with was long gone and the world around her was completely solid and bright, with its contrasts of vivid and muted colours.

Myka thanked Stan as he opened the door to a block of apartments and indicated that she should go ahead of him. They rode four floors up in the elevator and emerged in what appeared to be a large communal area. Her companion greeted various acquaintances but didn’t stop as he led them passed circles of sofas to a door on the far side of the room. Inside, he showed her to a seat and disappeared back into the mass of bodies for several minutes.

Myka had a fleeting wish to be blissfully unaware of her situation again. She felt like she’d been drugged and kidnapped... only willingly. She remembered placing Helena’s poem back in her book and rereading the inscription in the cover for the thousandth time and then feeling an irresistible voice whispering in the back of her mind.

She still wasn’t entirely sure that HG knew she had the poem. Myka had found it while snooping around Emily Lake’s apartment. She’d picked up one of the school teacher’s first editions and the letter, addressed simply with ‘My Myka’ written in familiar flowing script, had been sticking out of the protective cover. Without a second thought, the agent had pocketed it and now carried it everywhere.

With her mind her own again, Agent Bering had a million questions that she wanted answers to now. The one at the fore of her mind was ‘can these people be trusted’?

Before her thoughts could run away with her too much, Stan returned with two others in tow. On his right stood a woman of a similar age, with white hair pulled back into a bun and on his left, a younger man who sported casual jeans and t-shirt. Both new arrivals gave the agent a brief surveying glance, each with something akin to pity in their eyes.

“Myka, this is Jacques,” Stan gestured to the young man who held out a hand to take Myka’s and surprised her with a traditional greeting and a husky ‘enchanté’. She blushed despite herself and thanked him before turning to greet the elder woman. “And this,” Stan continued, “Is May.” Myka shook her hand and was taken aback again when she found herself being pulled into a hug.

“Try not to look so terrified dear. We’re all friends here and we’ll take care of you as well as anyone else.”

Myka nodded stiffly and sank into her chair with a small sigh. “What am I doing here?” She enquired instantly. “What are any of us doing here?” The three other adults exchanged a look and took their seats, each facing her but obviously being careful not to crowd her.

Stan kicked off the proceedings with a small cough to get everyone’s attention. “Most of us have a similar story. We felt an unexplainable pull to a particular place and arrived here with little sense of our surroundings or our own needs.”

“It’s only when we have a chance to interact with others that our thoughts and control return to us.” May informed the agent. “Anyone who ends up in this place experiences almost total apathy until one of us makes the effort to converse with them.”

“Is there no way out?” Myka was desperate for answers now that she could voice her thoughts. “How long have you been here?”

“We have been here many years and have found no way to escape. Those who came before us could not tell us either how to get out.” Jacques seemed relaxed, his posture uncaring, but Myka could see the anger in his gaze. “Some of us have resigned to our fate; we do not need and yet we live. Some of us have forgotten the lives we came from and are content with new friends; new loves.”

The agent felt her blood run cold. No escape? She couldn’t believe it. Wouldn’t believe it. She knew about all sorts of strange things and had always discovered a way to stop them. She was a Warehouse agent with friends on the outside who would not give up; would not stop until they found her. So what if agents had gone missing before and never been found? Pete, Claudia, Artie, Steve... Even Mrs. Frederick; they were an amazing team and would crack this case somehow.

As for new love? She feared that her heart had become far too jaded for that, no matter where she happened to be.

“How often do new people arrive and how long have you been here?” Myka watched them exchange a look that she was quickly becoming frustrated with.

“When one of us expires here, that is when we notice new faces.” Jacques answered in his collected ‘matter-of-fact’ tone.

May leaned forward and added softly, “Not all of the folk who arrive here can be saved.”

“Saved?” Myka questioned, alarmed.

“From the blankness they arrived with. You were very quick to respond once you noticed me,” Stan explained. “But sadly there are those who never respond. They become less responsive over time until they completely stop and lie unnoticed and eventually expire.”

“So we can die here?” They nodded reluctantly. “Where do you lay the bodies?”

Stan cleared his throat. “There aren’t any. We don’t need to eat, sleep or even go to the bathroom. When we expire, we simply lose the ability to stay conscious and disappear into the ground.”

“And no, we don’t know what happens after that,” May interjected knowingly. “As for how long we’ve been here...” her expression hardened, the pain of her loss and helplessness briefly visible. “Well, let’s just say that you’re typically older than most who find themselves in Limbo.”

Myka let that thought sink in and felt the horror that followed begin to overwhelm her senses. Again, the faces of her friends and family assaulted her mind but this time another joined them.

Unbidden, the memory of Helena Wells’ magnetic image wound its way to the forefront of Myka’s thought. All of her recent visions tugged at her, vying for equal attention, until her final memory of HG brought back the tears that she’d sworn she would never shed again.

Why had she accepted Helena’s surrender so readily? Why had she walked away when deep down she’d wanted to scream and demand that they fight for what she knew they both wanted? If she had that time again, she would stamp down on her fear with iron boots and camp out on the inventor’s doorstep until she could be honest about her feelings; until they’d aired out every avoided accusation and apology.

Now she knew she might never get a chance to see the woman she loved again, let alone speak to her.

When Myka was able to focus on the people around her again, she realised that Stan and Jacques had left her and May alone.

“That’s it dearie, just breathe,” May tried to calm the panicking agent with a soft, comforting tone. “I know it may not seem like it now but you will get used to life here. You seem like a very capable and intelligent young woman.”

Myka lifted her head from her knees and stared across the room. After a few steadying breaths, she faced her companion again. This time, every frown and laughter line struck a bitter chord and the agent swore to herself that she would never give up trying to find her way home.

“Please. I know many of you must have searched endlessly for a way out. I’ve dealt with the unexplained and unexplainable before...” She closed her eyes briefly and swallowed the images of her Warehouse family. “Please; just tell me everything you can.”

* * * * *

HG’s demeanour hardened and her temper shortened as she led her colleagues to the street behind scene of her daughter’s murder. She worked with complete focus, unwilling to stop for the slightest thing.

Pete put extra effort into being sensitive and quiet but he still found himself being snapped at and poked a fair bit. Having gotten over most of his mistrust and feelings of betrayal, he actually found that he liked and respected the older agent. She’d had to deal with many terrible things, some of her own making, and he doubted that anyone could come out from being bronzed for a century with a clear head. He couldn’t say for certain that he would have an ounce of sanity left after that much time being stuck in his own mind. It made sense that HG had eventually cracked. Now here she was, helping them even though it had to be tearing her up inside.

Steve intervened as much as he could to keep their investigation flowing smoothly. He watched the raven haired agent setting up her home-made sensors and wondered how much time she actually spent with other people. She had quite clearly been busy tinkering for the last few months. He made a note to ask her about it.

“Bugger!” HG cursed as the device in her hand fizzed and sparked, causing all the agents to cover their eyes.

“What was that?” Pete blurted seconds later.

Before she could muster up the energy to think of something sarcastic to say, HG’s attention was drawn to the blank space of wall staring at them from the dead-end of the side street they were standing in.

All three agents gasped as one of the bricks near the base shook and shimmered, becoming translucent the longer they stared at it.

“What the...?”

Agent Jinks reached over to Pete and pushed his chin up, closing his gaping mouth. Glancing at the inventor, Steve caught a momentary expression of ‘absence’ before the frown was back. Knowing that Myka had experienced lapses in her concentration too, shortly before her disappearance, he added this to the list of things he needed to speak to the Victorian about.

As quickly as the phenomenon had begun, it stopped and the brick became an ordinary brick again.

“Well, that was trippy,” Pete announced after a moment of silence. “What do your gadgets tell you HG?” He attempted a smile as he turned to the Brit. The hunt for his missing partner was taking its toll on his optimism but somehow he was still managing to appear upbeat on occasion.

“No, it’s not bloody possible,” HG mumbled, distracting herself by reading the display on her gizmo.

Pete put a hand on her shoulder, ready to pull away quickly should she show any sign of irritation. “Hey, you ok?”

Jinksy stepped towards them and caught her eye. “You saw something, didn’t you?”

“Don’t be absurd,” she answered quickly. “Of course not.” Helena shrugged and turned her back on the men, missing the glance that passed between them.

“You’re lying,” Steve accused gently.

The inventor grumbled, “Damn and blast.”

“You saw something,” the human lie detector repeated. “Probably like Myka did before she disappeared.”

“Fine, alright yes, I saw something,” she admitted reluctantly. “Are you happy now?”

“You mean just now? You had a vision?” Pete recalled the blank expression on Myka’s face when she’d collapsed against him. “Or a memory?”

Helena glanced back at the brick, sighing as she leant back against a wall and closed her eyes, easily recalling the images she’d been briefly assaulted with. “Not a memory,” she muttered. Her eyes opened, revealing unshed tears that threatened to fall. “They were together. Myka and... and Christina.”


	7. Chapter 7

Myka was scratching her head, trying to connect the dots in this puzzle. “Have you noticed anything odd? Symbols? Strange objects, people or places?”

She was looking at a bunch of street maps that appeared to be several hundred years old. None of her new acquaintances could tell her anything more. They’d inherited various resources when the group had decided to inhabit this building and, other that one or two journals and forgotten letters, there had been no record of the previous occupants. In short, no one knew how long Limbo had existed or how many people it had consumed.

“There’s nothing in the logs and I don’t recall ever having seen any strange objects.” Stan confessed regrettably.

“Nor I,” added May. “Anything out of the ordinary usually gets reported. As you can imagine, there’s not much of significance that happens here, other than people coming and going. We entertain ourselves as best we can. Changes are a big deal and news travels quickly.

Myka sighed and nodded her head in understanding. They sat in the communal area with the old maps littering the table, a dozen or so eyes watching them and the occasional comment adding to the growing enigma in the agent’s mind. She glanced around at their faces, noting the same resignation in their expressions. Perhaps some of them had tried and failed to find any solution to their predicament, or had simply not known where to begin. Perhaps they had lost friends and loved ones. Whatever the reason, most had given up hope and those who remained seemed to do so out of morbid curiosity.

Agent Bering poured over every scrap of paper until only one of her spectators remained. She slumped back in her seat and contemplated the young lad.

He was perhaps twelve years old, signs of the accelerated growth of adolescence evident in his gangly limbs and lengthening nose. Her mind searched for an explanation; how could they all keep aging normally when their bodily functions had ceased to be a necessity for any of them? Their environment had to be fuelling them somehow but she was damned if she could figure out how.

Seeing the agent break from her research, the young lad shuffled timidly towards her, all the while looking around nervously. Myka raised an internal brow at his odd behaviour and knew instinctively that she would have to tread carefully if he decided to speak to her. He had the look of someone who had a secret to tell.

She smiled warmly, hoping to put the boy at ease. “Hi,” she said softly, extending a hand for him to shake. “I’m Myka. Who might you be?”

He shook her hand warily. “I might be Thomas,” he quipped, causing the agent to chuckle at the unexpected comeback. “Most people call me Tom though.”

Myka turned her body to face the boy more fully. The moment of humour had broken the ice and most of the nervousness in his eyes had waned. She watched with genuine fondness as he made himself comfy on the couch, feet tucked beneath him so he could look directly at her.

“Ok Tom. You look like a man in the know,” she smirked at him playfully, hoping to boost his ego. “Have you seen anything out of place?”

His keen blue eyes quickly scanned the adults in the room again, his focus only returning to the newcomer when he was certain that no one was watching them. “I used to sneak out to explore by the lake,” Tom began, his expression cautious until he was happy that she wasn’t going to scold him. “There’s a girl there sometimes. We used to play together but she won’t talk to me much anymore.”

Myka noticed the caution return to his expression and tried to assume an air of reassurance in response. “That’s a shame,” she commented, truly feeling bad for the kid. “Do you know why she won’t talk to you?” she continued, wanting to get to the bottom of this conversation.

“She never remembers me,” he began to explain, bringing to light the reason he’d approached the agent. “I used to think that she was ill; that she had a problem, you know? In her brain?” He appeared pensive for a moment as he tried to think of a better way to explain himself. “It never bothered me because we used to have so much fun. After a long time; I’m not sure how long but I grew quite a lot; I started to see that she never changed.” He started intently at the agent, willing her to believe him. “I think she won’t talk to me now because I’m a lot older than her, even though I’m sure she’d been here longer. She talks funny.”

Agent Bering felt the hairs on the back of her neck stick up. This was the connection she’d been looking for, she could feel it! “Did you tell any of the adults about this,” she asked, wondering why no one had mentioned it before.

Tom’s cheeks flushed a darker shade. “They didn’t believe me. She isn’t always there and she won’t come out if there are a lot of people.” He glanced over at the group of elders that had naturally taken the role of leaders and then directed his gaze at the floor. “They said I was probably making her up because I was lonely.”

Myka felt sorry for the lad and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I believe you Tom.” She smiled as his face lit up. “You must be about twelve years old, am I right?”

“I don’t know exactly,” he shrugged. “Time here is funny. But I think so.”

“And this girl you used to play with, could you guess how old she is?” Myka found herself holding her breath, beginning to wonder whether her instincts were being powered more by wishful thinking than common sense. She had a hunch and prayed that she was right.

“She was older than me when I met her. I was seven. I remember she said it was her duty to look after me because she was a year older. She always said that her mummy would take care of us both when she came."

Swallowing hand, the Warehouse agent unconsciously leant forward, her expression expectant as she prepared to ask the million-dollar question. “Tom, did she tell you her name?” He nodded swiftly and shifted under the brunette’s intense gaze. “What is it?”

* * * * *

After gently questioning agent Wells regarding the contents of her vision, Pete decided to call Artie. The grumpy Warehouse director had had little sleep and it showed both on his face and in his short temper.

“What... what sort of gadgets exactly?” He demanded to know once Pete had finished his mission report.

“The sort that are helping us to find Myka,” agent Lattimer snarked back, his own patience beginning to wear thin.

Artie’s face became redder as he took everything in. “Do you mean to tell me that HG Wells has been inventing new ways to detect artefacts!?”

“Artie...” Pete began with exasperation before having the Farnsworth snatched from his hand.

Having listened in to the conversation, HG’s face appeared in the view screen, her expression far from happy. “What I choose to do with my spare time is none of your concern Arthur. But since I have tools at my disposal and our brightest agent and friend is missing, it seems the perfect opportunity to test them in the field.”

“I expect nothing better from an opportunist such as yourself,” he shot back, not the slightest bit interested in her concern for his charge.

“Bloody hell-fire, Arthur! I refuse to waste any more time with this pointless mud-slinging. Myka could be dying for all we know.” Artie began to splutter but the Victorian inventor railroaded any defence he had. “Time is of the essence. Now, do you have anything helpful to add or should I ask Peter to hang up now?”

Steve hid his amusement behind his hand though couldn’t obscure the snort of laughter that escaped through his nose. As long as Jinksy had known HG Wells, he’d seen her grovel and take abuse from Artie without complaint. He liked this more assertive woman. He could see why Myka had fallen for her.

Pete decided to take control of the conversation again by slinking a few steps away from his irate colleague and speaking in his best ‘taming-the-tiger’ voice. “Yes Artie, I’m keeping an eye on her... She wants to help.” He hesitated when needing to fill Artie in on HG’s vision, thinking for a moment before he decided that he didn’t have much of a choice. “Artie, we think that the artefact has started to affect HG,” Lattimer confessed while avoiding Agent Wells’ death-stare. “She had a vision. Like Myka was falling into memories, HG saw herself with Mykes.” He paused again, thought for a second and decided that he didn’t need to add further fuel to the fire; Artie could add his omission to the list of things Pete would be chewed out for later.


	8. Chapter 8

** Chapter Eight **

It had taken a lot of work to convince Stan, May and Jacques that young Tom might have had contact with the very thing that could help them all out of their prison. For all their knowledge, experience and insistence that they hadn’t yet given up, they were very sceptical about the agents proposal to find and talk to this mysterious girl.

Still, Myka trusted her instincts and even if this girl didn’t turn out to be who Myka thought she was, the brunette was still confident that the child would be able to help them.

She had decided that she’d better make this journey on her own. Tom had wanted to join her, but as the girl wouldn’t remember him anyway, Myka decided that the extra body would just appear too intimidating. Besides, she had a feeling that she’d seen his playmate before, during the first few hours of her arrival in Limbo and wanted to see if she could entice the eight year old out again simply with her presence.

She arrived at the lake some time later and took a slow lap, absorbing the pleasant scenery and calm waters. Whatever entity was controlling this place, it had taken the trouble to gild the cage they were in. Perversely, this realisation made Myka more desperate to escape.

Once she’d strolled the entire perimeter, the agent found herself a springy spot of grass to sit on, with a good view of the trees where she thought she’d first noticed the girl.

As her vigil began, Myka let her thoughts drift. She reflected on her family. The book her father had written because he could never find the right way to tell her that he loved her and was proud of her; her mother’s warm presence when she was ill as a child; the rare rainy days when she and her sister, Tracy, had called a truce long enough to make each other smile.

She reflected on Sam; the months of chastising herself for indulging in her attraction not only to a married man but a colleague; the first time they’d dated when he and his wife were officially separated; their first kiss; the first time they’d made love; saying goodbye the morning of that fateful day he’d been shot. She no longer felt guilty for what had happened or even missed him as a lover anymore, but she knew that she would always feel sorrow for the loss of a kind and wonderful friend.

The reason for her change of heart came in the form of the magnetic HG Wells. Myka felt like a moth to the flame when she thought of her ex-lover and sometimes friend. It didn’t seem to matter how often her wings were singed by the fire that smouldered between them, she would keep going back for more. Despite the battle she’d fought to rid her thoughts of the raven-haired beauty, Myka knew that if Helena ever made the decision to pursue her again, she would inevitably give in. Perhaps one day she would decide that the pleasure she felt in the Victorian’s arms was not worth the heartache that usually followed, but until that moment, Agent Bering knew that she was a willing victim.

It was impossible to tell how much time was passing. Myka continued to digest the predicament she was in, searching her eidetic memory for clues from past assignments and unresolved cases. Nothing she had read correlated with what she’d experienced so far; the memories of Helena had been a pleasant distraction and she could admit now that she hadn’t wanted to stop the mental intrusions.

The logical conclusion was that the artefact had the ability to tap into a person’s psyche and lure them in with one’s heartfelt dreams and wishes. Myka had been resolved of the fact that Helena had chosen a future without her but apparently, in the depths of her heart, she’d never let go of her need to be with HG. Memories were all she had left of the ex-agent.

Thinking about the Victorian brought Myka’s thoughts back to the girl she was hoping to meet. She was trying to reserve her conclusions regarding the mysterious child’s identity but the information she’d gathered so far bore such a strong resemblance to Helena’s daughter that Myka struggled to keep her excitement at bay. She was already imagining what she would say to HG if they managed to escape this prison. Was there some desperate hope there that the inventor would fall into her arms in gratitude? Agent Bering refused to indulge such an outrageous thought but it lingered nevertheless.

Her thoughts had come full circle by the time she finally spotted movement in the trees. She had decided that she would stay put on this occasion to appear unthreatening and it took all of her energy to quell the impatience that swirled inside her mind.

She felt an inquisitive gaze on her and looked up to find a familiar face watching from a distance. Myka tried not to show the astonishment or excitement she felt as she saw the face from a locket staring back at her. With a friendly smile tugging at her mouth, she waved across the lake and then went back to contemplating the water.

‘Play it smart, Myka,’ she thought to herself. Her peripheral vision captured the shortening distance as Christina crept closer and finally came to stand close by. Chancing a look, the agent lifted her head and smiled gently at the young girl. “Hello,” she greeted warmly.

The young Victorian appeared to deliberate for a few seconds, her head cocked slightly to one side and her dark wavy hair swaying gently in the breeze. Apparently deciding that the adult was friendly, Christina plonked herself down in the grass, her dress billowing like a parachute at the sudden movement. After another moment of intense observation, the young girl straightened her shoulders and held out her hand in greeting.

“Christina Josephine Wells. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She shook Myka’s offered hand with a familiar air of confidence then folded her hands in her lap and tilted her head again, as if she was trying to find the answer to a puzzle. “What’s your name?” She asked, her manners faltering a little and reminding the agent that she was still only eight years old.

“Agent Myka Bering, at your service Miss. Wells,” the curly-haired brunette made a slight bow which made the child giggle.

“Agent?” Christina questioned when the words registered. “Do you work with Wolly? I heard Mummy calling him that in the library one night. I had gotten up for a glass of water because my throat was awfully parched and Felix had knocked my night-time drink over, so I crept down the stairs, avoiding the noisy boards and they were having a rather heated conversation. Mummy sounded terribly vexed about something; she called him a ‘bloody imbecile’.” The words tumbled out of the child’s mouth as if she’d known Myka her whole life. She had never been a shy girl and some might have even gone so far as to call her precocious, but either way, she had never felt so comfortable with a stranger before.

Myka raised an eyebrow at the story but couldn’t help feeling charmed nevertheless. “I’m afraid I don’t know Wolly, but I did used to work with your mother.” She watched the girl’s face light up and felt a pang of sympathy for HG all over again. “I think it’s fair to say that Helena and I are friends.”

“You are very pretty. Does it take you a long time to curl your hair like that?” She was up on her knees now and examining Myka’s features. “Mummy curled my hair once, it took hours and I think she must have singed it a little because it ponged something awful. She said she would invent a machine to curl my hair faster but I think I will leave it like this,” she played with a thick lock that fell over her shoulder, as her thoughts appeared to drift. “My mummy is very bright you know? Brighter than some men even. She invents lots of useful machines.” She turned suddenly to look around for prying eyes and then whispered to Agent Bering behind her hand. “She is going to try to build a time-machine, like in Uncle Charlie’s book, but it’s a secret so you cannot tell anyone.”

Myka couldn’t help but laugh at the absolute sincerity on the young Wells’ face. She was thoroughly enjoying the almost one-sided conversation, but she was aware that her time might be limited. Tom had spent years playing with Christina and wasn’t remembered by the girl. Myka had no idea when the young Victorian would lose all knowledge of their having met.

“Your mother can do most things she sets her mind to,” Agent Bering commented, thinking about the many conundrums they’d faced.

“My mummy must like you very much,” Christina assured her.

Myka grinned, thinking of Helena’s smug expression. “Yes, she does enjoy being complimented.” Before the child could launch into another recital, Myka put on a more serious expression and waited until she had the young Wells’ attention. “Christina, do you know where we are?” She tried to phrase her question as simply as possible, not wanting to confuse or worry the girl.

“Mummy left me in Paris with Rosalie and Harold, and my cousins. She sometimes has to travel far for work,” she replied, though her voice lacked conviction.

“Do you think we’re in Paris then?” Myka pushed gently.

“Well, we must be,” Christina reasoned. “Surely?”

Myka nodded slowly. “That would be the logical conclusion, yes. Though I don’t think it is entirely the truth.” She paused to take in the girl’s brows drawn together in thought and put a comforting hand on a cotton wrapped knee before continuing in the same patient tone. “I was in Paris with a friend when I began having waking-dreams... about your mother. Everything was fine for a while and then one day I went out for a walk and ended up here.” She gestured to the space around them. “I’m not sure that this is a real place. I think we are in a sort of dream-world.”

Christina worried her bottom lip as she moved closer to Myka. “Is that why my mummy isn’t here yet?” She asked in a small voice.

“Yes sweetheart, I’m sure that’s why your mother isn’t here yet.” Myka was surprised when the young Wells shuffled over to lean against her. Tentatively, she placed an arm around the girl’s shoulder and felt a surprising weight of maternal affection settle in her chest. “Christina, I’m going to do my best to get us out of here, and I have friends in Paris who will be looking for me too. Do you think you can help me out by answering a few questions?”

Dark eyes gazed up at Myka, each brimming with hope. “Is this like an adventure?”

Myka laughed. “Would you like it to be?” She enquired, though she knew the answer even before the girl nodded. “Then yes; it will be an adventure. First, we have to solve a puzzle. I want you to think very carefully,” she began slowly. “Can you remember being with your cousins before you arrived here?”

 


	9. Chapter 9

Claudia swivelled slowly back and forth on her chair, a biro tapping her bottom teeth as she tried to put her findings together.  
After sending a list of missing persons to Steve, Pete and HG from the last decade, the hacker had continued to dig. Her findings had gradually become more and more difficult to uncover as she searched further back in time, but her determination to help find Myka eventually left her with a list of names dating back as far as the Early 1800’s. One name on her list had come directly from the Warehouse’s own archives, an agent by the name of William Johnson, one of the first employees at Warehouse 12.  
He and his partner had been tracking an elusive artefact through Paris when Agent Johnson disappeared. Like Myka, there was no evidence of a struggle; he had simply wandered off. All his partner could tell the Regents was that Bill had been plagued by visions and voices that whispered in his sleep. It fit the pattern and now they were waiting on Mrs. Fredrick to fill them in on the finer details.

Artie stumbled into the room with a stack of papers in his arms, interrupting the deep contemplation the red-head was indulging in.

“Artie! What did you find?” Claudia enquired the moment he dropped the stack on the already overflowing desk.

The Warehouse director grunted as he collapsed into his chair, one hand rising to wipe across a sweaty brow. “More disturbing facts about Ms. Wells’ inventions,” he grumbled. “That woman should not have been let free on the world. Who knows what she’s been tinkering with, or how long it’ll be before she’d putting us all in danger again!?”

Claudia threw her hands up in the air and growled loudly. “Arrrg! Artie, you’re obsessed. She’s not been near the Warehouse. She refuses to set foot in here and I don’t blame her; she’s spent some of the worst years of her life here. Yet she still drops everything to help us find Myka.”

Artie huffed, unimpressed. “That woman’s mind is a labyrinth of deception. There’s always an ulterior motive. You wait; the moment everyone’s let their guard down, she’ll strike. She can’t be trusted!” He bellowed his staunchest belief, hoping that the young techie would take him seriously.

Claudia was conflicted. She didn’t believe that HG was evil or that the de-bronzed woman meant any of them harm. HG was a brilliant but tortured person who would never relent if there was a possibility to save the people who meant the most to her. The thing with the trident had been a very loud cry for help that only Myka had answered. Artie had never given Agent Wells a chance and was happy to be proven right; he had not bothered to look deeper for a reason and being shot had destroyed any notion of sympathy on his part.

Although the woman still made her nervous, Claudia had seen the determination in the ex-agent’s eyes the moment she’d heard of Myka’s plight. If HG did have an ulterior motive for helping them, the redhead was confident that they would at least get Myka back first.

“Mr. Nielson,” Mrs. Fredrick interrupted, causing the two engrossed people to jump in their seats. Artie turned to face her, a scowl still on his face. “Do you have an update for me?” She asked as if he should have been standing waiting for her to appear out of thin air.

“Yes,” Artie began, his expression turning smug. “Not only has HG Wells been inventing items to detect artefacts, she’s now having visions and might soon disappear, as Myka has. Clearly she has a lot more to do with our current predicament than we thought.”

The redhead rolled her eyes and shook her head simultaneously, his stubbornness exasperating her, whereas, Mrs. Fredrick continued to observe the director calmly.

“I am aware of your deeply held opinions of agent Wells, Mr. Nielson. You should know that the decision to release her from confinement was deliberated over at length by the regents and that the conditions of her release include surveillance and regular therapy. We have been keeping an eye on her and are aware of her... hobbies.” The primly dressed caretaker moved around the room with purposeful steps, occasionally levelling her stare at the other two Warehouse workers. “That Agent Wells is beginning to experience the visions is disturbing but not altogether surprising.” She pulled a manila folder from her bag and laid it on a fairly clutter-free surface.

Artie and Claudia immediately left their seats to gather round. “What’s this?” The bushy-browed director asked sternly.

“These are the regents’ records of an investigation carried out into the disappearance of Agent William Johnson, in 1851, in France.” She watched like a hawk as Artie began shuffling through the findings. “He was one of the first agents of Warehouse twelve,” she added slowly, ignoring his mutterings of ‘that woman’ and pushed on. “They were chasing an artefact that was rumoured to be the cause of numerous disappearances in and around the French capital.”

Claudia rushed back to her station and with a few taps on the keyboard had a timeline of vanishings in Paris for the last two centuries. She scooted her chair back to the centre of the room and flicked through to the page she’d noticed during Artie’s perusal; lists of missing persons from the winter of 1801.

“Jinkies. How long have the regents been holding onto this?” She demanded before seeing the admonishing expression on the caretaker’s face. “Sorry.”

“It’s a good point,” Artie added. “Myka went missing almost a week ago and you’re only just telling us that she’d not the first agent to be abducted by this artefact!” Though he was attempting to keep a cool head, in light of this revelation, he couldn’t help but feel frustrated.

“The regents had to be sure of their convictions. False information can severely delay an investigation; you know this Arthur.”

“Fine, fine. Let’s see what they discovered then.” He reached for the manila folder again and began to scroll through it at a slower pace.

Claudia leaned over the old man’s shoulder, skimming over the information as Mrs. Fredrick talked them through the investigation.

“Mr. Johnson and his partner Samuel Thomas, were sent to retrieve an artefact from Paris in the spring of 1851. The regents had been tracking its movements for five decades following a rapid increase in mysterious disappearances. A week into the investigation, Agent Johnson reported having visions and slipping into memories with no intention of doing so. Three days later, he left the hotel they were staying in, all of his belongings exactly as he’d left them, and never returned.”

Claudia couldn’t stop the sob that escaped her throat as she thought of Myka being lost forever. “Why couldn’t they save him?”

“The artefact is nomadic.” Mrs. Fredrick announced. “The regents and Agent Thomas agreed that it sensed them closing in and went to ground.”

“It senses danger?” The redhead asked in astonishment. She had rarely heard of an artefact with that level of sentience. The one that came immediately to mind was Lewis Carol’s mirror. That one had taken Myka for a ride too.

“Yes indeed Miss. Donovan. This artefact has a need for human vessels, the ability to entice those vessels to its location, wherever that may be, and the sense of self preservation.” The imposing woman’s expression was deathly serious as she turned to Artie. “You know what this means.”

“It’ll go straight into the dark vault.” Artie sighed as he leant back in his chair. He looked at the young techie who was staring at him with a ‘so what? We’ve caught dark artefacts before, the vault is full of them’ expression. “Typically, an artefact as sinister as this would require extra caution and specialist equipment in some cases. The end result is usually the same though.”

“We kick its ass,” Claudia exclaimed as if there was no other outcome imaginable.

Mrs. Fredrick cracked a tiny smile at the enthusiasm. “Indeed.”

“Yes, we have a fairly good track record, but an artefact as elusive as this one? It knows how to cover its tracks and no one knows what it is or what it looks like,” he grumbled while pushing the folder away in disgust.

“Almost no one and we have reason to believe that it has lost its ability to move freely.” Irene’s eyes held a sparkle that was reserved for moments like this when she could spring a table-tilting nugget of information on her colleagues.

Claudia smirked into her hand at the slack-jawed expression on her boss’ face. “So who’s ID’ed this thing and why is it stuck?”

“Agent Thomas’ diary talks of having seen a scarab scuttling into a drainage pipe. He included it as a footnote in his investigation but as he had no more leads, he seems to have dismissed it.”

Artie leaned forward with interest. “But the regents found something?”

Mrs. Fredrick levelled a stare at him, pausing for effect. “Yes, they did.”


	10. Chapter 10

After hours of scanning and poking the brick that had come alive in their presence, the three Warehouse agents were forced to return to the hotel. HG and Pete were both feeling defeated, though neither one would admit it and Steve couldn’t help feeling like a spare wheel. He hadn’t had much insight into removing the artefact and his talent was wasted in literally talking to a wall. When he did detect lies around him, it was from either of his colleagues.

Agent Wells retreated to her room with the excuse of needing to freshen up, which left the guys alone. Pete decided to call Artie again while the Victorian inventor was otherwise occupied, to avoid any more heated arguments.

“Pete,” Artie greeted gruffly. “What have you found out?”

Pete puffed out his cheeks and sighed. “We’re sure we know where the artefact is, but we can’t get to it without drilling out part of the wall and we don’t know what it’ll do to Myka.”

Artie nodded but didn’t appear overly perturbed by the news. “And Ms. Wells? What has she been up to?”

Agent Lattimer sighed again, this time in annoyance. “She’s doing everything she can to help Artie-man.”

“The visions?” The director pushed on.

“She did have another one,” Pete admitted. “’Bout the same length as the first and the brick glowed again, but we had no more luck finding out what it was or how to get to it.”

Artie nodded again as if he wasn’t surprised or concerned but merely thinking through a plan. “Where is she now?”

“In her room,” Pete frowned, not liking the twitching vibe he was getting.

“Alone?”

“Yes Artie, alone.” Agent Lattimer’s tone hinted at his shortening patience. “We’re all wiped out; I think we can allow her the chance to shower, eat and sleep. Don’t you?”

Artie leaned into the Farnsworth, his image becoming intensely large in Pete’s view-screen. “Listen Pete. Every documented account of this artefact includes visions or memories and shortly after, the victim vanishes. Now, her being affected affords us an opportunity to see the artefact in action and may be the key to discovering how to get Myka back.” He paused to check that Pete was keeping up before ploughing on. “Do not let her out of your sight. I want a twenty-four hour vigil on that woman and if she takes off, follow her but do not engage! Are we clear?”

Pete looked up at his temporary partner and gestured to the door. Steve had heard the entire conversation and although he wasn’t thrilled with Artie’s attitude, he understood the logic in the director’s plan. He stood by the peephole so he could keep watch while hearing the rest of their instructions, if there were any.

“Ok Artie. Jinksy is starting the first watch now. What do you want us to do if she zombie-walks all the way there? How do we stop her being taken?”

Artie stared at Agent Lattimer longer than was comfortable for Pete before he simply said, “You don’t.”

* * * * *

HG knew she was in trouble the moment she felt her mind beginning to slip again. Despite knowing what was coming, she had no control over what her body did next.

The few hours that followed would later remind her of her rebellious teenage years when opium had been all the rage with her spoilt university acquaintances. She felt like a stranger in her own body; sentenced to watch the world pass by while being stuck in a bittersweet dream.

With each passing moment, the image of Myka and Christina laughing and conversing with one another drove her desperate with want until she could no longer resist the temptation to let go of reality and plunge head-first into oblivion.

Her only remaining thought was that she be allowed to finally be at peace with her life, regardless of whether it was real or not.

Close by, as he watched HG Wells being swallowed up like an entrée, Pete cursed himself for blindly following Artie’s orders.

* * * * *

News of a new arrival in Limbo reached Myka through Jacques. The ‘expiration’ of one of their number had given them the heads up and Stan had sent runners out to search. The agent wasn’t sure what good there was in ‘waking’ the dreamers, but she couldn’t fault the good intentions of her new friends.

As May led her to the new arrival, Myka prepared herself to take in as much detail as possible; she had to find a way out and seeing these affected people for herself might provide some insight.

Her mind drifted to the image of Christina Wells and the girl’s insistence that she must wait for her mother. What force could have brought her to this place when Helena had buried her more than a century ago and was this why Christina appeared to be completely unaware of time passing?

As Pete would say, Myka’s spidey-senses were tingling; this mystery might not have begun with the young Victorian – in fact, the agent was sure that any connected artefact was much older – but she knew, somehow, that HG’s daughter was the key to their escape.

May chatted at length about the delicate operation that was ‘greeting a new arrival’. Myka listened with half an ear while she tried to place the increasing tightness in her stomach.

“You need to be delicate in your approach; some folk lash out when they first come to their senses. You must prepare to be disappointed too,” Myka nodded her understanding and the older woman continued. “You can’t blame yourself if this person continues to sink into their own mind. It’s not easy to let people go, but sometimes there’s no other option.”

May’s voice faded into oblivion behind the sudden roar of blood pounding in Myka’s ears. They had turned a corner into the exact same side street that the agent had materialised in who knows how many hours before. There, at the far side of the dead end, standing half-turned away from them, was a figure that Myka would know anywhere.

Agent Bering gasped and clasped a hand over her mouth. She expected the raven-haired beauty to turn and pin her with those intense dark eyes that she’d missed so much, but though they stood there for over a minute, Helena remained immobile.

With this unexpected development, Myka’s puzzle solving brain received a sharp kick and began moving the pieces around again. It couldn’t simply be coincidence that she, Christina and now Helena had been lured into this place. Was life so cruel that it would trap them in ‘amber’, forever together and eternally apart, or was fate attempting to give them a chance to fight for a life? Was it even possible for all three of them to escape?

A gentle hand on her arm broke the agent out of her stupor and with a grateful glance at her companion; Myka slowly began to close the distance between herself and the Victorian.

“Helena?” Myka called softly.

“So you do know her,” May interjected, having wondered whether the young brunette had not simply lost her nerve. “Dearie, do you think it would perhaps be better for someone impartial to try and bring her round? In my experience, most respond better to a calm and patient approach. It’s not easy to do that when you’re emotionally involved.”

The curly-haired brunette bristled slightly at the suggestion but to be fair to the more experienced woman, she gave it some thought. “I honestly think she’ll respond better to someone she knows. When her mind’s set on something, she’s as stubborn as a mule,” Myka smiled sadly, picturing again Helena’s glassy-eyed gaze as Pete drove them away from Boone. “I’ll try to keep in mind what you’ve said though.”

May conceded and gave a small gesture to wave the brunette on. Agent Bering took a slow, deep breath before moving cautiously into the inventor’s line of sight.

“Helena?” She tried again, inching closer.

Myka took a moment to study her estranged friend. Helena’s hair was the same glossy black and a little wild, likely from having run her fingers through it many times. The agent felt her own digits tingle at the memory of what those silky locks felt like. The Victorian’s eyes were completely devoid of life however, sending a chill of horror through the agent. There had always been a hint of darkness and lingering pain in those eyes but they had been full of life and determination, not like now.

Standing directly in front of the unmoving figure now, Myka gently placed a hand on each of the inventor’s arms and tried to keep the tone of her voice calm. “Helena... Can you hear me? It’s Myka, remember? Do you recognise my voice?”

She waited a beat, feeling panic welling up from deep inside when there was no response. Helena continued to do nothing. The urge to shake the shorter woman was suddenly sharp in the back of her mind.

Helena was beginning to panic. She could feel the effects of her fantasy pulling at her from all directions but could hear another voice begging her to take back control. The conflict was dragging her apart and yet she just couldn’t let go of her little girl again.

A frail hand came to rest on Myka’s shoulder, reminding her that she wasn’t alone. “Easy dear. Take your time. Try just talking; don’t focus so much on making her respond.”

Myka nodded and tried to swallow the bile in her throat. She let her arms fall gradually until she was holding the Victorian’s small but strong hands in her own. She thrust her mind back in time, trying to dig up something to talk about.

“I remember the day we met... You wouldn’t believe how excited I was to be chasing down the great HG Wells. I had so many questions I wanted to ask him and I was carting around my first edition of ‘The Time Machine’ just in case there was a chance to have it signed.” Myka found herself becoming engrossed in the memory, a smile forming on her lips at her own fanatic behaviour. “When Artie told me we were looking for a woman it took me almost a minute to compose myself before running to warn Pete... Then I saw you...” She let her gaze drift up to fix on HG’s face. “I’m not entirely sure what I felt in that moment, but ever since then I just haven’t felt whole without you around.” She released one of Helena’s hands and tucked a raven lock behind the inventor’s ear. “Sometimes I miss you so much it hurts.” Agent Bering’s voice cracked slightly at the end and she had to blink several times to clear the moisture from her eyes.

HG watched as Myka’s features exploded briefly in amusement and drank in the pride and instant captivation on her daughter’s face. ‘Seems like the Wells women are willing captives of yours Myka,’ she thought smugly. She was desperate to close the distance and embrace the pair but part of her conscience was still intent on that voice and deep down she knew that what she was seeing was no more than a beautiful fiction.

“You know, we never did talk about the days leading up to Warehouse Two,” Myka’s voice cracked as she began to monologue questions long repressed. “How could you lie with me most nights and still pursue your plan each morning? Did you feel any doubt or remorse? Those students, Valda, Kelly and Pete... Me?” She felt a tear slip silently down her cheek and sniffed as she wiped it away. “Did you ever once think to confide in me what you were feeling? I would have spent my every waking moment helping you to see beyond the darkness.” She took a step back to absorb the whole scene again, searching for anything different.

May’s expression was not encouraging; she appeared to have given up. “Now dear, you recall us warning you that not everyone can be saved. If your friend here was meant to ‘wake-up’ I would have expected a sign by now. Particularly considering everything you just confessed.”

Myka frowned, both at the suggestion that Helena was a lost cause and at the realisation that her private musings had been overheard. She’d been so completely engrossed in the Victorian writer that she’d ignored her surroundings.

“I won’t leave her,” the curly-haired brunette declared with determination. “I don’t need to eat or sleep; I can stay here until I ‘expire’,” she reminded her guide. She glanced back at her statuesque friend. “I can’t let her waste away like this. Besides being a complete waste of a brilliant mind, I have a strong sense that we need her to help us escape.”

May looked on in pity, obviously assuming that Myka was deluding herself. “What makes you think that dearie?”

The agent took a deep breath before she dropped her bomb. “She’s Christina’s mother.”


	11. Chapter 11

Myka felt May leave and was relieved to be alone, save for her statue-like friend. If it took her forever, she would stay by Helena’s side and keep trying to reach her. Either she would succeed in getting the woman back or they would both eventually perish.

Her mind ran briefly to Christina at the apartments. The suddenly nervous girl had not wanted Myka to leave without her and the agent had promised to return before too long. She felt conflicted.

Perhaps she would be able to leave Helena briefly and still have a chance of reaching her when she returned. Perhaps May or one of the others would return shortly and she could ask them to fetch the child.  


‘I’ve got to stay,’ she thought desperately. ‘This could be her only chance to wake up.’ Feeling tears begin to prick at the back of her eyes, Myka grabbed HG’s upper arms again and shook her gently.

            _‘You know that this is impossible,’ Helena began to reprimanded herself. ‘It is an illusion. You are being distracted from your true purpose.’ The logic of her words took a long painful moment to sink in but when they eventually did, her gaze fell back on her fellow agent and she finally began to hear the mysterious voice clearly._

_ Gazing longingly at her daughter, Helena made a conscious effort to let go and forced her mind to focus away from the beautiful fantasy. _

“Come on Helena,” Myka urged. “You are one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. You can fight this!” She stared intently at dark blank eyes and for a moment thought that she saw a flicker of life. “I know that what you must be seeing is tempting to give into, but trust me... There is still reason for you to hope.” Myka’s voice faltered with the emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. “Come back to me Helena. We will save her... together,” she promised heartily before the tears flowed and her throat tightened so much that no more sound would pass.

For an agonising moment, nothing happened, and then, very slowly, HG’s expression began to tighten as she struggled to regain control of her body.

Myka continued to hold Helena steady as the shorter woman’s body seemed to lose all strength. She knew the exact moment that her friend returned when dark eyes filled with tears and a choked ‘Myka’ forced its way out from HG’s throat.

Together they sank slowly to the ground until Agent Bering had the inventor’s head cradled in her lap and tried to offer some comfort by gently stroking through ebony locks.

It took some time before the distraught sobs faded into small occasional hiccoughs, and only then did Myka attempt to speak, “Helena?” she tried softly, pulling raven hair behind a shapely ear to peek at the side of the woman’s face.

HG sniffed uncharacteristically loud and began to sit up. She seemed to falter for a minute before resigning to her fate and wiping her eyes and nose distastefully on her sleeve. “I cannot keep doing this,” she croaked, hands shaking as she covered her eyes briefly and then pushed back her hair.

Myka placed a steady hand on the inventor’s back and was relieved when it wasn’t shrugged off. Then those windows to a tortured soul honed in on her and the brunette couldn’t stop herself pulling Helena into a firm hug. “You are so amazing,” Myka assured the Victorian. “You’re always fighting to be in control, but Helena,” she pulled back to look into glassy eyes. “You can lean on others sometimes. I’m here for you when you need me, no questions asked.”

Helena finally smiled through her tears. “Thank you Myka. I came here thinking to rescue you, but I appear to be the one in need of a knight in shining armour.”

Myka blushed, her mind suddenly filled with the image of them on horseback; Helena’s arms wrapped tightly around her waist. She aimed her gaze at the ground, afraid of what she would see in the other woman’s eyes.

HG placed two fingers under Agent Bering’s chin and angled her head up once more. Feeling words that she’d suppressed bubble up on her tongue, she took a long breath and forced them back again, knowing that now was not the right time. “Thank you darling,” she repeated with all the sincerity she could muster. The last of her tears had been wiped away and she’d quickly come to realise that at least one of the two people she loved was alive and well.

“You don’t need to thank me Helena; you’re my friend, it’s my honour.” Myka took a step back, breaking the spell. “It’s good to see you,” she added with a shy smile.

HG grinned. “Myka Bering, you are a sight for sore eyes. You’ve had us all quite worried you know?” For the first time, the temporary agent began to take in her surroundings. She gave her fellow agent a cocky smile, feeling slightly relieved after her outburst but still needing to cover the residual pain that lay within. She linked a hand through Myka’s arm and led the stunned young woman towards the light of what appeared to be a main road. “So tell me darling, what has your wonderfully analytical mind discovered thus far?”

* * * * *

“Do you think Artie set her up to get rid of her?” Agent Jinks asked as his temporary partner paced passed the spot where HG Wells had disappeared a few minutes ago. “He didn’t seem overly concerned for what might happen to her.”

They had taken alternate hourly watches over the Victorian. Pete had sat outside his room, watching the inventor’s door, contemplating the director’s intentions. Artie’s intense dislike of HG Wells was no secret amongst the Warehouse operatives, but Pete was fairly certain that he wouldn’t deliberately try to kill her.

“Artie’s not like that. He’d put her back in the bronze section I think, but not kill her.” Lattimer was struggling with the sporadic vibes he was getting. There was a constant feeling of unease in the pit of his stomach but he couldn’t narrow it down any further. He last clear vibe he’d had was about HG and he was beginning to wonder if all he had achieved by bringing her in was to lose her to this artefact too. He wondered whether she and Myka were even able to communicate where they were. “He saved her life once,” he finished, trying to find a reason to feel confident.

Steve nodded but knew that Pete was experiencing some small waves of doubt. “But you don’t think he’d be overly concerned if she just happened to disappear forever? Particularly if it helps find Myka?”

Pete clearly heard the accusation in Steve’s tone and immediately tried to defend his boss. “No, he wouldn’t... Well he’s...” Lattimer stopped and looked at the sceptical expression on Steve’s face. “Ok, so Artie wouldn’t miss HG if she never came back, but he still wouldn’t just send her to her death. He knows something.”

“Like what? No one seems to know what’s inside that thing,” he pointed to the brick where they’d seen a curling cloud of sand appear just long enough to engulf HG Wells and whisk her away to some unknown plane. “Even the information he gave us from the regents is full of holes. No one has managed to find a way back. How does he know that HG can help?”

Pete shrugged. “I guess the same way we all sense these things... Instinct.”

* * * * *

Myka filled Helena in on everything bar one vital detail. She hadn’t yet figured out what the significance of Christina’s presence was and wanted to get everything else out of the way before dropping that bomb on the Victorian.

“So you think the visions and memories are centred around individual desires? That the entity has created a utopia to draw victims in and persuade them to stay?” Helena was sprawled out on the grass next to the curly-haired agent, in a very unladylike fashion and yet she still managed to look regal in Myka’s eyes.

“I think we’re being used as an energy source. From what we know of artefacts, there’s usually a sacrifice that comes with whatever perceived benefit that the user receives. It could be physical, emotional, psychological, intelligence, a life... Some form of energy that the artefact draws upon.” Myka stared across the lake to where she remembered seeing Christina the first time. What did the artefact need the young girl for? “The sacrifice for us appears to be our freedom, but I’m still not sure why that’s significant here. Particularly since so many have fought off the pull of their innermost desires.”

Helena frowned over the memory of the glowing brick and the shape of something trapped inside that had seemed familiar. “It’s worship,” she whispered at last.

Myka hugged her knees and frowned, her thoughts having drifted as she figured out how to approach the subject of Helena’s daughter. “Huh, worship?”

HG recited for Myka the update she, Steve and Pete were given the night before by Artie and Claudia. “The energy!” She jumped up and began pacing in excitement. “Agent Thomas mentioned seeing a scarab beetle.”

Myka was soon on her feet too and filling in the blanks with Helena. “Which were revered by the Egyptians.”

“Right. Though I do not believe that we are dealing with Khepri. I would be willing to wager that the artefact is an amulet designed to represent one of the great pharaohs.”

Myka averted her eyes from where HG’s index finger stroked her bottom lip. “You think there’s a cartouche underneath?” She took a deep breath, thinking. “There are so many. What else do we know?” She began to pace too, now focussed enough that she didn’t feel admiring eyes following her. “Dreams and visions of our deepest desires. No control over our actions when we were ‘called’ here... Hidden from the world,” she muttered, beginning to see a connection.

“Hidden?” HG questioned as her brain began to come to the same daunting conclusion. “You don’t think...?”

“Amun, meaning hidden. Amun-Re was said to be the protector of the poor and distressed. He aided those who travelled in his name and became known as the ‘Protector of the Road’.” Myka was on a roll, feeling the pieces fitting together neatly. “Creating a utopia in our minds in exchange for our devotion.”

The inventor found herself mesmerised by the shifting expressions on her fellow agent’s face and was content to enjoy watching Myka’s mind whirr and dance.

“Towards the end of the eighteenth dynasty, Akenaten forced in worship of the god Aten and it wasn’t until his death, when Tutankhaten, later Tutankhamun, revised worship of Amun-Re.” Myka chewed on her bottom lip and twirled a lock of hair between her fingers. “Tutankhamun’s tomb was not discovered until 1922 but that doesn’t preclude the discovery of treasures in his name being found elsewhere. In fact...” Her eyes lit up and she turned to HG with a knowing smile. “The first disappearances; did they begin earlier in the nineteenth century?”

“Yes.” Helena grinned, following Myka’s train of thought. “Right about the time those young French soldiers were returning with the Rosetta Stone.”

“And likely a lot more than that.” Myka grinned triumphantly.

Helena restrained herself for all of a second before launching herself at Myka. She had initially only intended to hug her fellow agent but somehow ended up with a hand either side of her face and suddenly they were kissing. Myka opened her mouth to protest and immediately felt a tongue slipping inside and entwining with her own. The whimper that escaped her throat was testament to how much she wasn’t bothered by the interruption.

HG didn’t worry about wrestling with her conscience this time. Kissing Myka felt so right. Why had she chosen to give this up? What good had it done? As she felt soft curls running through her fingers and heard a contented hum rise and fall from the brunette, she promised herself that she wouldn’t return home until she’d sat down with the agent and really talked things through. She figured she could tolerate being closer to the Warehouse for more of these kisses.

When Myka finally began to process what was happening, she panicked. She envisioned those lonely nights crying over the inventor’s absence and the long days filled with numerous tasks, just to keep her mind busy. The touch of Helena’s lips and hands made her head spin and her knees weak, but if she had any ounce of control left it was the staunch professional deep inside who refused to be reduced to a hormonal puddle in the middle of an investigation. With determination, Myka took hold of the Brit’s hands and removed them from her hair while taking a step back to put some much-needed space between them.

“Helena...” she caught a flicker of concern and confusion in the other woman’s eyes before it was quickly smothered. She knew better than to touch the Victorian again; her professional persona wasn’t up to a repeat performance so soon, but she made an effort to soften her tone. “Helena, as much as I love when you kiss me,” she confessed boldly. “We can’t... I shouldn’t...” she struggled to find the right words and held her tongue when the other woman raised a hand to stop her.

“Say no more darling,” HG took another deliberate step back, showing the brunette that she wasn’t going to cross the line again. “I am aware that I have a lot of explaining to do, but for the record...” her expression morphed neatly from sheepish to smouldering. “In my right mind my dear, I would never stop kissing you.”

“Which begs the question, have you or will you ever be in your right mind?” Myka teased.

Helena mock glared and placed both hands on her hips. “Be very careful agent Bering, I may mistake your insults for passive-aggressive interest.”

Myka blushed again but kept eye contact this time. She believed that the inventor meant what she was saying but couldn’t be sure that HG’s intentions wouldn’t change once she was better informed. The time to find out had arrived. “Walk with me?”

HG fell into step beside the brunette even as she puzzled over the sudden seriousness in her expression. They walked for a while in companionable silence until the inventor realised that they had come full circle. “Myka darling, do you have a destination in mind, because I think we may have already passed this location?”

Myka looked around without actually taking in any of the scenery. She couldn’t find any sort of clue to indicate why Christina was there and had to admit that she was afraid of how HG was going to react. She sighed her defeat as she turned to the other woman. “HG, there’s really no easy way to explain this...”

“Myka, please, call me Helena,” the inventor insisted gently and then smiled mischievously. “I do so love the sound of my name on your lips.”

“You love the sound of your name, period,” the curly-haired agent shot back before she remembered that she was supposed to be sharing a rather large piece of information. “Anyway, behave! I’m not sure how to say what I have to say or how you’re going to react...”

Helena took pity on her companion and smiled gently. “Whatever it is, you will only be able to guess at my reaction unless you tell me. Do you want to forever be in Limbo?”

Myka cracked a nervous smile but was far too anxious now to really be comforted by the joke. “Helena, while investigating this place, I found an anomaly.”

HG’s interest piqued. “Anomalies usually indicate a weakness. You may have uncovered a possible escape.”

Myka nodded her agreement. “You mentioned believing that your time machine is involved. What if when you were in Sophie’s body, the artefact sensed your undoubtedly powerful desire to save Christina and tried to pull you in?” She watched a frown begin to appear on HG’s features and pushed on before she could begin to lose her nerve. “But because you weren’t actually there it experienced some sort of malfunction? From what I can discover, the scarab has been stuck for around about a century.”

The inventor heard the conviction in Myka’s tone and began to wonder what other evidence the young woman had besides the timing. “Your theory certainly sounds plausible darling, but it could also be entirely circumstantial,” her tone was kind as she didn’t want to belittle the agent’s analysis, but she was concerned that Myka was focussing too much on this single idea.

“Helena, the anomaly is a young girl,” Myka added, finally biting the bullet. “She doesn’t age and I have no idea whether she would have a physical presence in reality or not. It’s possible that she’s simply a clever construct of this place.”

The look in Myka’s eyes and the unusual nervousness in her manner suddenly began to click into place. “Who is she?” HG asked with a strained tone.


	12. Chapter 12

Claudia was fuming at Artie. He’d sent her on a wild goose chase in search of an artefact he claimed was in their inventory, only to announce on her return that it wasn’t that important anyway. That would have been reason enough to make her grumble about his eccentricities and aging mind, but when she’d returned to catch his last order to Pete, the young woman immediately felt duped and betrayed.

“I can’t believe you,” she seethed, catching the director off guard and then watching as he tried to school his expression into something resembling innocence. “You sent me on some bogus artefact hunt so I wouldn’t know that you were planning on setting up HG!” She accused angrily and turned on her heel, heading towards her desk where her Farnsworth lay.

As soon as Artie realised what she was going to do, he scrambled out of his chair and snatched the open device from her hand. They tussled over it for a minute before he shouted, “Enough!” and forced his protégé back a step.

Claudia glared at the man who had been like a father to her for the past couple of years and pointed at the Farnsworth. “Call Pete back and tell him to save HG,” she demanded.

“Claudia, we need her to demonstrate the level of power this artefact has and I have a hunch that that wo... Miss. Wells will be of great use in discovering this artefact’s origins, and thereby giving us a chance of figuring out how to break its power.”

“And you couldn’t possibly have shared that with me?” Her tone was still hard, demonstrating how little his words had placated her.

“Claudia, we don’t have time to argue about this! I’m in charge here; I call the shots and I accept any fallout that might come from making difficult choices.” He gestured wildly with his hands, frustration surfacing at having to explain himself.

Miss. Donovan’s eyes softened slightly as she realised what he was saying but she was still furious. “You were trying to protect me,” she concluded.

“Yes!” He exclaimed and collapsed back into his chair, letting out a deflating breath of relief, mistakenly thinking that he was being let off the hook.

“What about HG?” She asked, startling the old man. “Doesn’t she deserve to be protected?”

“That woman...!” Artie began angrily.

“Is scary,” Claudia interrupted. “And isn’t exactly my favourite person either after she broke Myka’s heart, but she’s not a monster Artie! We’re in the business of helping people, not deliberately throwing them to the Darleks! Or manipulating each other so we can do it in secret,” she added in a quieter, hurt tone.

Artie allowed his indignation to fade away and finally placed the communication device on a table within reach of the IT whizz as a symbol of surrender. “Claudia, I’m sorry I lied to you.”

“And manipulated me,” she added.

“And manipulated you,” he conceded.

“And wasted my time searching for bogus artefacts,” she pushed, beginning to grin at the idea of his saying the word ‘bogus’.

“And for sending you on a wild goose chase,” he grumbled.

Claudia frowned with disappointment and tried again, “And for disrespecting the awesomeness of the Donovan.”

“Yes, yes, fine! All of the above,” he snapped, his arms flailing around again, affording the young techie some small sense of satisfaction. “If I’m right, then HG’s presence will be pivotal to discovering a weakness in the artefact’s ability to retain captives. Her attempts to meddle with time may have affected its evasion tactics.”

“You mean that her time-machine crippled it, creating a way to escape? Will you be throwing her a party when she returns?” Claudia teased as she tried to wrap her mind around his theory.

“I will do no such thing! The last thing she needs is encouragement to continue tampering with the natural order of things.” Artie swivelled on his chair, returning to clear his keyboard of a mass of papers.

“How do you know?” Claudia asked as she watched the older agent fuss and grouch.

“What?”

“About HG’s time-machine and the artefact?”

He swivelled again slowly until they were face to face and regarded her over his glasses with an air of all knowing superiority. “HG Wells’ time-machine, although never logged as an artefact, is a powerful and clever,” he added reluctantly, “Piece of machinery. Mixed with another powerful object, it is very likely that it would affect the regular functionality of the second object. We have no way of knowing how the artefact has been affected or by what, but without further evidence, it stands to reason that the time-machine is involved and that its creator has a lingering link to breaking those causes and effects.”

“So, you’re guessing,” Claudia concluded, enjoying the exasperated eye roll that followed her comment.

“Yes,” he admitted. “But I am right,” he assured the young agent.

* * * * *

Helena stood for a protracted moment staring at Myka as if she’d never met the woman before. Her brain simply refused to process the information she was being given.

She saw her daughter’s body lying in a casket, felt the numbness in her limbs and mind become a flowing river of lava as rage took control and demanded that she seek retribution for her senseless loss. She heard the screams of her victims become those of her child as she struggled with a figure much larger than her own, in a body that was not trained to defend itself.

When Myka’s image swam back into the forefront of her vision, she felt an overwhelming hunger for answers. Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed the agent’s upper arms, her hold no longer loving or gentle.

“When? Where?” She demanded, her intensity bringing back unpleasant memories for the brunette. “How do you know it was Christina?”

Myka ignored the pain in her arms, knowing that HG wasn’t completely cognizant of her actions. “Helena. You showed me your locket,” she reminded the inventor.

HG felt her body drain of energy, remembering that Myka had a photographic memory. Her hands lost their grip and fell to her sides. “Take me to her,” she said simply.

Myka didn’t offer any further explanations or cautions; she knew at this point that the Brit wouldn’t take any of it in. She felt her hopes fade and swallowed back the bitter tears that threatened to fall. She wanted the inventor; the woman she loved, to be happy, and she felt that having Christina back was the one thing that could do that. Disappointment should not have been a concern of hers any more, particularly with this individual, but she felt its sting nevertheless. Some time ago, without realising it, she had given her heart to Helena and her own happiness lay in the circle of the writer’s arms.

The modern Warehouse agent led the raven-haired Victorian back to the apartment block she’d been introduced to on her first ‘waking’ day in Limbo. She’d taken Christina there to get a better idea of how the young girl was surviving in this place. Up until the arrival of her fellow agent, Myka had kept the girl engaged and active. She wasn’t sure how the young Victorian had managed in her absence or if the girl would even remember who she was.

Myka followed Helena into the elevator and pushed a button for the top floor. She stood in rigid silence until she felt a tentative hand slip into her own. Startled by the touch, inquisitive eyes rose to meet hope-filled orbs.

Helena felt a lump in her throat and forced her way passed it as she faced her ex-lover. “I know that my actions have never been fair to you darling.” She moved to face the agent fully. “Without you Myka, I would have never made it this far.” She reached out to hold the American’s hands tenderly in her own. “I know that I haven’t earned your affection or forgiveness, though I sense that you’ve given them anyway. There are not many promises I can make given the uncertainty of our current situation. However, I would like you to know that you are one of my dearest friends and I always want you to be a part of my life.”

Myka felt the weight of what she interpreted as a fond farewell to any hope of romance between them. Whether Helena meant it that way or not, the oft unlucky-in-love agent chose to take it that way. With a parting nod, Myka closed the distance between them and took the Victorian’s lips in a tender goodbye kiss.

Her timing was perfect and as she pulled back with a whispered ‘Goodbye Helena’, the doors of the elevator opened, revealing a scene that would make the inventor forget all about the kiss... For now.

Helena stepped off the elevator with tremulous anticipation. Across the room, a vision of perfection greeted her. Her feet became rooted to the spot, her gaze drinking in the sight of her beautiful child sitting serenely on the floor, talking to the homemade humanoid toy she held in her hand. The adult sitting close by, keeping an eye on the girl, took one look at HG and smoothly retreated to a group of chairs further away.

“She’s been waiting for you Helena,” Myka said softly. “Go to her.”

The inventor took half a step forward and then stopped to turn back to Myka. “Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears as she stared in awe at the agent.

“I hope she’s what you’ve been looking for, Helena. I can’t explain how she got here or guarantee that she’s the real thing,” she cautioned at the last minute. “But I knew that no matter the risk, you would take it for the chance to have her back.”

Helena nodded, her voice lost beyond the lump of emotion in her throat. She mouthed another ‘thank you’ and began to move towards the object of her affection, a thousand thoughts filtering through her mind. Myka knew her well; nothing short of death would prevent her from attempting this reconnection. But the words she’d uttered just a few hours before still rang true; she couldn’t keep moving through the pain of disappointment every time she was faced with the idea of having her little girl back only to have her snatched away again at the last minute. At this point, death would be preferable to the agony of losing Christina again.

Myka watched with a heavy yet hopeful heart as the gorgeous ex-agent trod cautiously along the length of the room and eventually caught Christina’s interest. Agent Bering’s breath caught in her chest the moment mother and daughter noted and recognised one another. She watched as Helena appeared to lose control of her legs and fell to her knees; gasped with joy as Christina’s expression lit up, and wrapped both arms around herself when the young Victorian jumped up and ran to Helena, yelling ‘Mummy’ with abject delight.

She had seen Christina’s casket herself and had heard Pete declare that the girl’s desiccated body did indeed lie within it, but witnessing this reunion, she began to hope and believe that miracles were possible.

Helena received the eight-year-old’s solid presence in her arms with all the joy that a mother could. She felt Christina’s arms circle her shoulders and breathed in her daughter’s familiar scent. So what if it was a mere trick of the mind? This was heaven and she finally felt whole again.

It was with that thought that she felt the change. The scene around her began to blur and she self-consciously tightened her arms around the girl in her arms. Feeling panicked, she looked around frantically for Myka and spotted the agent’s fading figure approaching with concerned rapidity. There was no time to wonder what was happening before all of her surroundings blurred into nonsensical shapes and colours. She held onto the blessed solidness in her arms, automatically shushing the tremors and whimpers that came from the child. She felt her maternal instincts surface without effort but had enough presence of mind left to wonder at her ex-lover’s fate.

* * * * *

Myka watched helplessly as HG Wells and her daughter disappeared before her very eyes. She had known somehow that reuniting Helena and Christina would show them the way to escape their prison, but she had assumed that said escape would include the rest of them too.

As it was, the moment the Wells duo were completely gone, the world around them began to shift and she felt her control begin to wane.

Looking around her, Myka whispered a heart-felt ‘sorry’ into the ether and prayed that Helena would know what to do to help them from here on out.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

“Lattimer, catch the damned thing!” Helena yelled for the third time.

The stocky agent was rooted to the spot the moment HG and a small girl materialised in front of him. The inventor’s pleas to ‘move his arse’ went unnoticed until he became aware of agent Jinks’ curses and erratic movements. He watched Steve dodge and weave while a mouse-sized object scuttled around his feet. Finally understanding the orders being shouted at him, Pete joined in the chase and within a minute, had the wriggling artefact held tightly between two bear-like hands.

HG held the eight-year-old securely in her arms as Steve held open a neutralisation bag and gripped tight to the opening, smothering the emitting sparks the moment Pete threw the beetle-shaped artefact inside. She avoided their stares and began walking in the direction of the hotel. Steve moved swiftly after her, leaving Pete to stare blankly after them.

“Whoa, whoa!” He exclaimed. “HG, where the hell is Myka?!”

“In there,” HG pointed to the bag, still striding swiftly away from the scene of her worst nightmare, clutching her prize like she was never going to let go. “I suggest we move quickly Mr. Lattimer; I don’t know how much time Myka has left.”

Pete fell into step with no more questions, though he kept a sharp eye on the woman leading the way.

* * * * *

At HG’s request, Claudia created updated credentials for one Christina Wells to aid the young girl’s admittance into the USA. Normally it would not have been a challenge for the young techie, but with Artie on her back, questioning everything, it took her twice, if not three times as long. Her only saving grace was Mrs. Fredrick, who arrived in time to go over Artie’s head and agree to the task, staying to prevent the meltdown that threatened to follow.

They were all full of questions, including their new arrival.

Christina sat in the window seat, happily looking out over tiny towns and fields now that she was over the shock of take-off. “Mummy?” She said, turning away from the incredible view to look at the elder Wells.

Helena had seen fit to purchase a change in outfit for her daughter and was still marvelling at the difference the modern fashion had on her child. She had not taken her eyes off her daughter yet. It had been so long since she’d had the pleasure of watching the young girl that she simply couldn’t pull herself away. Then there was the insecurity that lay beneath, warning her not to believe what she was seeing, that she would close her eyes one minute and open them to find Christina gone. She needed to be vigilant. She knew that she had to return to the Warehouse, if only so that she could do everything in her power to help save Myka. But the moment anyone tried to take her child away, she would show them just how dangerous she could be. “Yes my love?”

“Why are we going to the Americas?” Christina wondered now that the rush of getting to the plane was over and she had the adult’s full attention.

Helena ran her fingers over soft ebony hair. “Well, we need to take the object Mr. Lattimer caught back to a very special place, where we will make every effort to discover a way to free the poor souls trapped inside.”

The girl wriggled in her seat, trying and failing to pull her knees under her. “Damn and blast,” she muttered to herself before remembering that her mother was right there. “Oops.”

“Oops?” Helena questioned as she tried to keep a straight face. “That is all you have to say?”

Christina schooled what she hoped was the right amount of contrition into her features. “I am ever so sorry, Mummy.”

“Thank you love. There is a time and a place for profanity but it is not here.”

The younger Wells gave up her efforts to get more comfy and thought back to her question. “Is Agent Bering trapped in there too?”

HG was momentarily startled. “You remember Agent Bering?” Her daughter nodded and Helena immediately wondered how the pair had gotten along. “Did you like her?”

“Oh yes,” Christina began enthusiastically. “She’s funny and she has very pretty hair. She is very fond of you Mummy and she thinks we are both very bright.”

“Well she is absolutely correct,” HG agreed with no hint of false modesty. “She is very bright too after all.”

“Do you like her, Mummy? Will she come and stay with us in London do you think?” Christina paused for a second. “Once we have rescued her I mean.”

Helena had to think for a moment, wondering how she was going to explain their living situation. “I like Myka very much darling; she is a wonderful person and has been a smashing friend. I would certainly be delighted for her to come and stay with us.” She smiled at the open excitement in her daughter’s eyes. “We do not have a house in London anymore though love.”

Christina’s excitement turned to confusion. “Why ever not, Mummy? Are we homeless? Shall we have to go to the workhouse?”

HG reached across the seat and pulled the concerned and inquisitive girl into her arms. “Not at all my love. I am renting a house for us in the States. We can buy a house though when we decide where we want to live.”

Thinking back on life in their London home, Christina frowned. “Shall I have another tutor?” The girl asked in a subdued manner.

“Would you like one?” HG wondered aloud, her mind beginning to contemplate the educational prospects for her daughter. “You could go to school,” she suggested, suddenly realising that this modern world held many more open doors for a growing girl. The thought both excited and terrified her.

“Would I have to work with all the boys? I don’t want to go away to school, Mummy. I do not mind a tutor, but may I help you choose? Professor Dyson was... pungent,” she declared with distaste.

“Pungent?” HG questioned with amusement.

“He smelled of pipe tobacco and herbal sweets,” she pulled a face to demonstrate the strength of her disgust. A sudden thought occurred to her and she span around to see her mother. “You could teach me Mummy. If we don’t live in London you will not be working at the Warehouse, will you? You are not going away again, are you?”

Helena felt the shock from the girl’s words hit her and then revisited the guilt she’d been plagued with in the aftermath of the girl’s death. “Christina, what do you know of the Warehouse?” Her tone was both enquiring and accusatory.

The young Victorian appeared sheepish. “Sometimes I get thirsty at night,” she offered as her entire explanation.

Helena’s expression became stern as she easily put the pieces together; she recalled the daily challenge of settling the girl down to sleep and the compulsory glass of water by her bed. “I leave you with a night-time drink,” she reminded the young girl.

“Felix drinks it... or he knocks it over,” Christina tried to explain desperately.

This news brought a fond smile to her lips. “Darling, Felix is inanimate. He is stuffed with down, meaning that he has no internal organs and therefore does not need to imbibe liquids.” She took pity on the girl, as she always had when faced with a pout and downturned eyes. “You wanted to know what I was doing each time I went away?” Christina nodded. “Well, my dear girl, it seems that I have underestimated the extent of your curiosity. I should not be surprised really; you are my daughter after all.”

“You are not cross, Mummy?” Christina leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder.

Helena shook her head. “No love, I am not cross. I know it must have been taxing to stay in bed when you sensed that adventure was afoot. I promise you though darling, I will be at home with you a lot more now; there will be no more need for night-time wanderings,” she added with a semi-serious expression.

* * * * *

From the moment they stepped out of the baggage claim area, Steve and Pete carrying Myka’s things between them, HG felt her protective maternal instincts kick in and lifted Christina into her arms.

Blocking the exit from the airport were Adwin Kosan and Mrs. Fredrick, backed by an entourage of security personal.

“Agent Wells,” Mr. Kosan greeted the inventor, stepping ahead of Mrs. Fredrick in a subtle demonstration of his power. “It appears that your latest mission has been rather more fruitful than anticipated.”

“And you are here to, what... tell me that I am not permitted to keep my... spoils?” HG asked, the hostility she felt clear in her tone.

“Not at all,” he answered calmly. “I couldn’t be more pleased for you. But we do have a duty to make sure that his development will not cause harm. Though, we would like to request your assistance first in releasing Agent Bering from her prison.” He gestured to the sliding doors where the agents could now see two Government Issue cars waiting to whisk them off to the Warehouse.

Helena swallowed her fear-fuelled anger and walked with purpose towards the lead vehicle. In her mind, she was planning their escape if the head regent decided not to be quite so friendly, but for the time being she would go along with his wishes. She wanted Myka back as much as any of them and after a few hours of on and off contemplation she was beginning to understand how the artefact worked.

She wasn’t surprised, after strapping Christina securely into her seatbelt, when she was joined by both regent and caretaker who sat facing her and her daughter. “So is this when you interrogate me to reveal whether or not I planned this entire excursion?”

“Mr. Kosan and the majority of the regents are of the opinion that, other than the coincidental involvement of your greatest invention, that the events of the past week and a half are none of your doing.” Mrs. Fredrick said with her usual no-nonsense yet somehow kind manner. “Despite past events, you are not under suspicion.”

“We do however have to investigate the causes and effects of your current situation, no matter how joyous the results appear to be. I assume that you intend to make her your ‘one’?” He didn’t have to wait long for the temporary agent’s cautious nod. Adwin Kosan turned to the younger Wells, ignoring the obvious tensing of HG’s posture. “Miss. Wells,” he held a hand out and waited patiently for the young Victorian to receive permission from her mother to respond in kind. He looked deep into the girl’s eyes, the ring on his finger allowing him to detect anything other than a genuine sentient and living human presence. It only took the barest of moments, after which he shook her hand cordially. “I am Adwin Kosan, head regent of Warehouse 13. It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise, Mr. Kosan,” Christina responded with a slow tilting of her head that she’d noticed many times when her mother met someone new.

HG beamed with pride, momentarily forgetting the tenseness of their situation. Any reservations she may have held, after Myka’s warnings and her own disbelieving thoughts, vanished in that moment and she felt a tear escape her hold and make a path down her cheek.

This was her child.

Christina’s body had perished many years ago, but her soul, the beautiful person that shone through those dark expressive eyes, was the same one she’d known since the moment she gave birth to her. How she’d been given a new body was a mystery for now, but there was no doubt in Helena’s mind that she had her little girl back.

She turned back to her watchers, a new air of hope and determination in her eyes. “What do you need from me to convince you that she poses no threat?”

“Your co-operation mostly, Agent Wells.” Kosan informed her with his usual reserve. “We will of course respect certain boundaries and treat her as we would any innocent. We require your presence near the Warehouse for as long as it is needed, therefore we would be appreciative if you would take up your former residence at Leena’s. I have already asked for a child’s bed to be added to your room.”

Helena nodded behind a frown. “Has Agent Jinks not taken up residence in my old room?” She asked, confused.

Mrs. Fredrick’s eyes lit up with a knowing glint. “Agent Bering requested that we not disturb your room unless absolutely necessary. I believe she has been hoping for your return for some time now.”

“I told you that Myka likes you, Mummy,” Christina couldn’t help whispering smugly, making her mother blush.

She pictured Myka for a minute, even likely hating her for her betrayal in Egypt, still needing to defend her. What had she ever done to deserve a woman like Myka? A woman who would forgive her so readily after a betrayal of both their professional duties and their romantic affiliation? Who would still put her and her daughter before the woman’s own needs?

She briefly recalled the nights spent watching Myka sleep. The few hours spent making love had awakened parts of Helena that she hadn’t known existed. The times she’d bitten her own lip or ripped a hole in the sheets in an effort to stay quiet while Myka’s hands and lips tortured her skin, those were the only times HG had felt human in over a hundred years.

Every moment spent away from that distracting embrace was a moment of agony; eventually leading her to their fated encounter at Yellowstone. But even there Myka had been looking out for her.

It was time for her to take care of Myka, HG thought as she ran her fingers through her daughter’s hair and kissed the young girl’s head. “Well my love, the minute Agent Bering is back with us, I will be sure to invite her round for tea.”

 


	14. Chapter 14

Helena stepped into the Warehouse holding her daughter, with the regent, caretaker, agents and bodyguards behind her, feeling her fears begin to pound again at the back of her mind.

Artie approached with not even a glance at the girl glued to her side and glared at the inventor wordlessly. It wasn’t until Mr. Kosan and Mrs. Fredrick gave him direct orders to back off that he moved away from HG and returned to his seat.

There was a moment of relief when Claudia wrapped the inventor in a brief and awkward but heartfelt hug and the young redhead whispered, “Grumpy-bear’s gone to the dark-side, but we’ll bring him back, no worries.”

“That would be nice,” HG responded. “But for now I am more concerned with finding Myka.”

“As we all are, agent Wells,” Mrs. Fredrick assured the room, shooting Artie her own glare.

Adwin Kosan waited until they were all settled, restated his orders and expectations, and then left everything in Mrs. Fredrick’s capable hands.

The caretaker scanned the room, making sure that she had everyone’s attention before asking the agents to review all of the facts they’d collected so far.

They took turns recalling their own perspectives to the case and Artie added everything to the growing picture on his board. The dates of the first disappearances coincided, as Helena had suggested, with the discovery of the Rosetta Stone, beginning with one of the young soldiers who had been on the expedition to build the fort in Egypt. They all agreed that it was likely that he had been the one to find the artefact and take it home with him.

They took a quick picture of the cartouche on the underside of the scarab before shoving the still struggling object back in the neutralising bag. HG clutched her daughter to her tighter than ever, terrified that the entity, which had given her child a body again, would find a way to take it back. She’d discovered once or twice before that artefacts sometimes held a grudge.

Claudia identified Amun-Re’s name in combination with Tutankhamun’s, proving that Myka had been on the right track.

“So, what about HG’s time-machine?” Pete asked as they began to exhaust all other avenues of their investigation.

Helena opened her mouth to speak but stopped when the girl in her lap turned around to stare at her in awe. “Mummy, did you really build a time-machine?”

The inventor couldn’t help the smug smile that tugged at her mouth. “Yes love.”

“Like in uncle Charlie’s book?” Christina enquired further.

Here Helena’s smile slipped a little. She had been dreading the moment she would have to explain their situation in more detail; particularly the ‘when’ and what had happened to all of their friends and family. She had already decided that she would stretch the truth a little with the details of the girl’s entrapment by the artefact. No eight-year-old needed to know such dark tales.

“Not entirely like the one in Charles’ book; it only transports the conscious mind, not the physical body.” She turned to the others in the room. “Myka had a theory that, when I used the machine to return to Paris, the artefact sensed my desire and tried to entice me in, but because only my mind was present, it malfunctioned, creating a physical... copy of that which I most desired and trapping itself in place.” She focussed her energy on being just slightly obscure, hoping that her intense stares were enough to warn the others that she didn’t want to go into too much detail. “The moment we were together again,” she gestured to her daughter, “It felt as if the artefact was relieved to finally be rid of us.”

“You both turned out to be the key to opening a gateway,” Artie piped up from where he stood. “I wonder if we could recreate that event from this side?”

HG glared at the director. “I have tolerated your willingness to use me as a guinea-pig at every opportunity, but never Christina. Do you understand me Artie?” She concluded with menace.

He didn’t bat an eyelid at the threat but nodded in response. “Fine,” he grumbled. “Anyone have a better idea?”

“The artefact appears to have returned to its former functionality, which would mean that anyone attempting to get close to it is in danger of being lost to its powers. I highly doubt that either of our Miss. Wellses would still have control over it,” Mrs. Fredrick added her opinion and thus calming HG’s need to escape with her child.

“So was it just the time-machine that whammied the beetle-god?” Pete asked from his position at the back of the room. He was feeling rather useless at the moment; puzzle solving wasn’t his forte. “Can’t we pimp it and put them together again?” He asked desperately.

Claudia shifted in her seat. “Dude! Could we send someone’s consciousness across a dimension instead of just time?” Her expression was excited as she gazed at the inventor.

Helena’s brows pulled together as she considered this proposal. “Perhaps if we were able to accurately plot the destination signature and find a way to manipulate the temporal mechanism on the machine to travel on a less linear path...” She trailed off as her mind began to map out the possibilities. “We might need a larger power source,” she warned the room after a quiet moment.

“I think that can be arranged,” the caretaker responded with an indulgent smile.

“What?! You’re going to let her tamper with that thing?” Artie spluttered before even taking the time to think it through. “Sure, fine. Let her destroy the entire grid! We’ll just deal with the fallout from that when it arrives shall we?”

Mrs. Fredrick sent a sardonic look his way, mocking his earlier enquiry, “Do you have a better idea Agent. Nielsen?”

The entire team stifled their grins as they each moved to get started on prepping for Claudia’s idea. Pete and Steve left for the warehouse floor to begin unpacking the time-machine, Claudia began inspecting the power systems to see where she could boost the power, while HG stood for several moments contemplating the safety of her daughter before reluctantly calling Leena to request her baby-sitting services.

Though Artie was staying in the office, HG didn’t trust his ability to keep an eye on the adventurous young girl. She loathed the idea of leaving Christina, even for a minute, and for the first two hours worked in the corner of the office with one eye on her daughter. When it came time for her to put her ideas into action, she hesitated.

Leena had the girl entertained with a series of books that she’d clearly picked up on her way through Univille; there had never been any children’s encyclopaedias or puzzle compilations in the library of the B&B as far as Helena had been aware. Leena was patiently discussing the pictures with the young Victorian, beginning the girl’s modern education without seeming that she was doing so.

Occasionally HG felt her daughter’s gaze on her and knew that Christina was logging a multitude of questions to pepper her with later. It couldn’t have escaped her attention that the dates were so advanced. What in the world must she be thinking?

The inventor rolled up her blue-prints and approached the table where Leena and Christina were giggling over something or other then knelt down next to her daughter’s chair.

“Hello love,” HG greeted the young girl with a tender smile. “Are you enjoying yourself with Leena?”

“Yes, Mummy. Lots of things have changed in the world,” she said matter-of-factly. She took in the concerned expression on her mother’s face and smiled knowingly. “It’s ok, I will learn everything there is to know about the future and we will be right as rain.”

Helena’s expression grew more gentle. “Darling, you are just full of surprises,” she said fondly, placing a kiss on Christina’s forehead.

Leena had been watching the ex-Warehouse agent since her arrival and was keeping a close eye on the woman’s aura. It fluctuated from anger to fear then guilt, and back again. The one constant was the love that flowed from her towards the newly reanimated Victorian girl who was, not surprisingly, in her element with the weird and wonderful. It was easy to see too the uncertainty and constant concern that sparked from the inventor. Conflict was a way of life for her.

“HG, is there somewhere you need to be right now?” Leena asked kindly, reminding the writer of the time-sensitive issue on their hands.

Helena hesitated and looked blankly at the bed and breakfast owner for several seconds, panicking when she realised that she couldn’t move. “I can’t...” she whispered desperately, her arms winding unconsciously around her daughter. ‘I can’t leave her,’ a voice inside her screamed.

Leena took a moment to distract the young girl before taking the inventor’s arms and pulling her to one side. “HG... Helena?”

HG wound her arms around herself, her body beginning to shake with the conflict. “I can’t do it, Leena,” her voice trembled with the struggle she felt. “I can’t leave her... I’m sorry Myka,” she whispered sorrowfully into the ether.

Leena put both her hands on HG’s shoulders and tried to channel as much calm into the distressed woman as possible. “HG, just take a moment for yourself,” she suggested. “Breathe.”

Helena closed her eyes and did as she was told, fighting back the tears that were sieging towards the barrier she’d constructed against her struggling emotions. “I do not know what to do... If I... If I take my eyes off her... She will... Something will happen.” Her voice cracked and the damn broke. Her tears fell hot against her cheeks and she turned away from the table to hide her distress from innocent eyes. “I cannot lose her again, Leena,” she finally forced out.

“HG, I know that it has to be hard to give up control when that very action has backfired on you before, but she’s a young girl who’s going to grow into a young woman and you have got to start somewhere in letting her have some space.” Leena knew that being logical was her best bet with the hyper practical Victorian but almost buckled in her conviction when she saw the raven-haired inventor began to crack.

“I know,” HG croaked, surprising the aura-reading brunette. “Oh lord, I know.” She tore herself away from Leena and sat back at the desk she’d been working at, pretending to search the contents for something important. “It is all I ever wanted for her. I spent years thinking that if I had my time again, I would spend it making her happy and helping her to become a remarkable person in her own right.” Her voice was low as she spoke, aware of two sets of eyes on her back. “Now I have her back and all I can feel is a selfish desire to keep her all to myself.”

Leena leant over the table, ostensibly to help the inventor’s fruitless search, and began in a slow even tone to explain the situation as she saw it. “A series of tragic and curious events has brought you both to this place and time. I know that you’ve realised this already, but she is the real deal, the same child that you raised all those years ago.” She paused for a moment, waiting for a response and only continued when she saw Helena nod. “I know that you’re not a pious woman by any means and I don’t know if you believe in fate, but for whatever reason, you and Christina have been brought forth in time and are being given a second chance at creating a life together, in a world that, while not perfect, is more prepared to offer our fairer sex a chance to thrive and succeed. If you stifle her now HG, you run the risk of dampening that potential. I know that’s something you would never want for her.”

Helena struggled to regain control of her fears, but the image that Leena painted was enough to help get her started. She sat up straight and took an offered tissue to wipe her eyes and blow her nose. Before she could find the courage to turn and face the room though, she felt a presence on her right and twisted slightly to find two concerned eyes gazing soulfully at her. Christina said nothing at first but simply climbed on her mother’s lap and held onto her tightly. Leena let them be and several minutes passed before either of the time-travellers moved.

“I am sorry my darling; I don’t mean to be so melancholy all the time.” She dabbed her eyes again and forced a toothy smile. “I know you would much rather we were making up adventures or planning one of our infamous outings.”

Christina lifted her head to gaze at her mother and used her own sleeve to wipe an errant tear from the elder Wells’ face. “Something terrible happened, didn’t it Mummy? That is why you are sad.” Helena barely mustered a small nod, but it was enough for the young girl to continue. “You used to tell me sometimes that bad things happen for a reason and if we are very fortunate, something good might be waiting for us as a result. I think we are in a good place now Mummy,” Christina concluded, bringing a tearful burst of laughter from her mother, who pulled her into another tight hug.

“Oh my dear girl. Whatever would I do without you?”

“You are strong. You would survive.”

“Survival is not the same as living.” HG thought about her own words for a moment, realising that, other than a few stolen moments with Myka, she had not really ‘lived’ since the day she’d heard of her daughter’s death. That sort of empty existence was not what she wanted for her child. She brought her daughter’s face closer so she could pepper kisses along her cheeks and forehead. “This is a new start, Christina. There are many things for us both to learn. Are you ready for this new world?” She asked, though inwardly acknowledging that she was likely going to be the one with the most issues. Leena was right though; she had to start somewhere.

“Will you allow me to learn more about the Warehouse?” The young Victorian asked enthusiastically. She had always been curious about the place that so often grabbed her mother’s attention and wanted to be a part of that world. Just being inside its walls, she felt a spark of energy fill her.

Helena’s eyes narrowed at the idea, but she gave it fair thought. “In time love, I will tell you all you need to know about the Warehouse,” she promised, putting extra emphasis into the ‘need to know’ part of the statement. “But for now, I must see to an important task,” she added, reluctance still in her voice, but mainly a renewed sense of optimism.

“I want to help rescue Myka,” Christina declared with determination.

Helena stood and reached once more for her blue-prints. “You can help by waiting here,” she informed the adventurous youngster, making a mental note to build some internal defence against her daughter’s pouts. “Artie does not allow children onto the main floor of the Warehouse, and we would not want to give him any more reason to be a grouch now, would we?”

“No, Mother,” the eight-year-old said dutifully behind a slight eye-roll.

“That’s my girl.” Helena bent down to embrace her daughter once more before leaving her for the first time since their reunion.

 


	15. Chapter 15

With some collaborative ingenuity between HG and Claudia, the time-machine was equipped with enough buttons and knobs to allow the agents to open a physical portal between their reality and the one where Myka was still trapped.

It took a few more hours and several attempts before they managed a stable opening, but the moment they had, Pete was lined up at the entrance, ready to be their envoy.

HG had wanted to be the one to search for their missing agent, automatically volunteering before she’d given it any thought, stating that she was the obvious choice because she knew the terrain, but needing to stay for both Christina and to keep the machine working had eventually convinced her otherwise.

The people who, one by one, appeared in their midst during the remainder of the night, were disorientated at first, but like Helena had when she first arrived in Limbo, soon began to regain their awareness. There was a decided increase in the speed of the victims’ recoveries the more of them that were rescued, until finally, Pete returned with a tired but smiling Myka hanging onto his arm.

While Artie and a returned Mrs. Fredrick escorted the majority of the survivors out of the secret government facility, to God only knew where, HG closed down her newly improved machine and slipped away unnoticed, leaving Myka to be embraced enthusiastically by her very relieved surrogate family.

She wasn’t sure what this feeling was, but she didn’t like it. She had only had the barest of moments to catch those expressive green eyes in a glance of relief and happiness before Myka was whisked off into another hug, leaving Helena feeling terribly hollow. She had felt awkward, not knowing whether to join the fray or hold back, which had her immediately wondering if she belonged there at all.

Upstairs, she discovered her daughter asleep on a make-shift bed that Leena had thoughtfully knocked together and with the barest of words, managed to persuade the empathic young woman to give her and Christina a ride back to the B&B. Leena knew immediately that something was wrong but wisely decided to allow the tired inventor to deal with her doubts in her own time.

* * * * *

Myka felt her thoughts return to her with the forceof a freight train the moment she was back in the Warehouse, but had no time to try and organise them as she found herself pulled into one hug after another. A brief flash of dark haunted eyes across the room jolted her memories of the last few days, but before she had a chance to act upon the moment, she was being crushed by another pair of arms. The next second she had to look around, Helena was gone.

It took a while for them, under Artie’s watchful gaze, to dismantle and box up the time-machine. The task would have been draining enough after the two-week-long artefact snag they’d all endured, but the ever grumpy director insisted on making them suffer through his continued complaints about HG.

“... should be DOWN HERE,” he shouted towards the stairs, “Helping to dismantle this monstrosity once and for all.”

“Artie, we recruited HG to help get Mykes back,” Pete’s tired but still patient tone carried over the top of the crate they were packing. “She’s done that. Are you really gonna give her a hard time because she rushed off to get back to her kid? Which is awesome by the way,” he shot a grin at Myka, who surprised herself by flushing with pride.

“Yeah Artie,” Claudia joined in from behind the lid she was holding up. “Leave HG alone already. She rocked ass on this case.”

Artie let his end of the machine clang to the floor and regarded the agents incredulously. “Have you all lost your minds? May I remind you that she ‘helped’ once before and that none of you were any the wiser that she was planning to KILL US ALL!”

Steve raised his hand slowly. “I wasn’t around then,” he reminded them.

The old man grunted and began fighting with the machine again. “We should have recruited you earlier, then I’d have had you on my side against this lot.”

Myka wanted to say something, anything to defend Helena against her boss’ ranting, but she knew he had a point and a right to still feel betrayed and suspicious if he wanted to. ‘That isn’t who she is now though,’ her inner voice reminded her firmly. She was too tired to fight, which she knew their heated discussion would become if she let her emotions get the better of her, so she continued to toil silently until the area was clear and they were all making their way back up to the office.

Her anticipation grew with each step, expectant at the thought of seeing the two Victorians again. Especially eager to see Christina in the flesh and reassure herself that the child she’d grown to care for in such a short amount of time was healthy and whole.

Upon opening the door to the office though, she was greeted with silence. Her gaze searched the now empty room, her insecurities reigniting at the thought that Helena had disappeared, playing on her trusting nature again. Artie’s renewed explosion of accusations did nothing to help her spiralling thoughts.

“I knew it! Why else would she have left that infernal contraption in our hands?” He paced the floor, glaring it seemed at any place HG had sat while she had been there. “The first chance she had to run and she took it. I hope you’re all taking notes.”

Agent Bering wrapped her arms around herself unconsciously, wishing that she could find some comfort in the action and damn the flood of tears that threatened to break through her carefully constructed facade. The tumultuous thoughts that crashed around her mind were loud enough to drown out the others in the room until her gaze fell on a make-shift bed and a discarded book. Immediately, she began to find pieces to the puzzle that she hadn’t known were there.

“Where’s Leena?” She heard herself ask. All chatter around the room ceased and she gazed more confidently at each one of them. “She was here, wasn’t she? Where is she now?” She watched as the director’s pallor darkened and knew before he opened his mouth that he was jumping to the worst conclusions.

“If she thinks we won’t pursue her just because she’s dragging a child around with her...!” Artie was half way across the room, reaching for his bag and tesla when the slamming of a hand on his desk halted his progress and he turned to face his newly rescued agent’s murderous stare.

At the dismissive mention of Christina, Myka had seen red and finally let the protective monster that rested against her chest loose. She ignored Pete’s attempt to talk her down, pushing roughly passed him as she invaded her mentor’s personal space, using her height advantage to back him into a corner.

“Now you listen to me, Artie,” she growled, her voice a dangerous whisper. “Helena has endured your hatred for long enough. From now on I’m telling you to keep your spiteful remarks to yourself.” She watched him begin to splutter his indignant response but didn’t let him get into his stride. “I don’t expect you to change overnight, but I for one am fed up of hearing it. I have more reason than any of you to feel betrayed and angry, but I know that she’s not just some evil mastermind. She is capable of so much more than you give her credit for, both the good and the bad,” she admitted reluctantly. “I’m not some simpering, trusting fool who needs to be scolded by you every other minute. She is brilliant but she needs our help,” she turned to face the other agents in the room. “All of our help. Whether that’s to show her patience and understanding, or just to keep your opinions to yourself,” her voice hardened again as she turned back to a stern looking Artie. “Helena just got Christina back. She’s going to be confused and terrified of losing her again and yes, she probably has already made plans for how she would escape if she felt threatened. With the way you’ve been treating her, it’s not really surprising that she’s on the offensive, is it?”

“I think you’ve made your point, Myka,” Artie pushed easily passed her, relief evident on his face.

“My point is this,” Myka continued louder, not giving up. “You treat her like a criminal and she’ll always appear like one to you.  She probably asked Leena to take her back to the B&B so she could put Christina to bed.” She stalked across the room and picked up the puzzle book, waving it in the stubborn man’s direction. “She’s Helena’s number one priority now... and mine too,” she declared boldly, not realising until now how true those words would taste in her mouth, and not questioning why. She finally moved towards the exit, passed the target of her tirade. “Remember that the next time you think about threatening either of them,” she finished, shoving the crumpled pages of children’s brain teasers into his limp arms and striding with graceful power through the door.

The tension in the room dissipated gradually after Myka left but minutes ticked by before anyone spoke, the agents waiting on ceremony as Artie finally wandered over to his chair and sank into it.

“You think he’s ok?” Steve whispered to Claudia, thinking that she would be able to judge their boss’ mood best.

“Yeah, sure,” she squeaked, sounding completely unconvincing even to her own ears. “Well, maybe not good or even fine, but he will be... in time,” she added hopefully. “That was way harsh-o on Myka’s part though. I’ve never seen her so Xenaesque before.”

“Does that make HG, Gabrielle?” Jinxy asked doubtfully.

Pete happily followed the Seg-way, “Nah, they’re both Xena today.”

“And we all have a little Garbielle in us somewhere?” Steve asked, amused. “Myka is so more Gabrielle. HG has that dark past and all.”

“You do have a point Jinxy,” Claudia conceded. “Gabby had her kick ass moments between the Buddhist stuff. Perhaps you can help Myka to reconnect with her inner enlightenment.”

“Stop that,” Artie’s voice came from across the office. “Do you think I can’t hear your banal comments from over here!?”

“Artemis, you’re alive!” Claudia approached the back of his chair and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Medusa didn’t turn you into stone!”

“Get off of me!” He groused, flailing his arms again and drawing a smile from the young redhead. “I don’t need three hens clucking about my wellbeing.”

Pete placed a hand on his chest in mock offence and gasped. “Well,” he began in a forced southern-belle voice. “If my concerns are misplaced, I’ll take my leave.” He threw his head back and pretended to push a lock of hair from his face. “Good day to you gentlemen, ma’am.”

Claudia leant on Steve for support as she began to cry with laughter, while agent Jinks smiled wryly and shook his head at the other man’s antics. Even Artie cracked a smile and called agent Lattimer back before he could disappear.

“Ok, ok,” he began reluctantly. “I may have been... overly vocal with my opinions of late. I just... I didn’t want to give her an opportunity to hurt Myka again. You’d think she might appreciate that,” he grumbled under his breath.

“Hey, last time, HG had just woken from a hundred year conscious coma and had taken a long drive into Crazy Town. Even if she and Myka were visiting the sandman together, that’s a lot of crazy to get over in a short time.” Claudia explained in her own unique way. “Myka gets that. That’s why she’d able to forgive past mistakes and try to move on.”

“And hey, hey, hey; have you seen how cute that kid is? No wonder Mykes is all ‘smitten’,” he tried out a rough estimation of posh Britishness that would have made the Victorian agent cringe. “She’s like a miniature HG.”

Agent Jinks took pity on the confused director. “Artie, what I think these two are trying to say is that, Myka is in love with HG Wells and, troubled as she is, HG feels that same way about Myka.” He looked to his colleagues for confirmation and continued when they both nodded. “I’ve spent a fair bit of time with HG this week and there was no more deception from her than any of us. We think they should have a chance to be happy.”

“And who’s going to pick up the slack when the great genius decides she’d had enough and leaves Myka in another pit of despair?” Artie insisted, still not completely mollified.

“We all will, Artie,” Pete declared.

“It’s what families do,” Claudia followed up, wrapping her arms around the stocky man-child.

Artie threw his hands in the air and huffed out a breath of acquiescence. “Fine, fine. I will try. TRY... To be civil to that woman.”

 


	16. Chapter 16

As Myka was driving away from the Warehouse, having borrowed Pete’s car, she soon became aware that she was beyond tired and quickly wound the windows down to let an early autumn breeze in. She could almost feel the dawn fast approaching and wished the adrenaline from her confrontation with Artie would last long enough to get her home safely.

She pictured the lost expression in Helena’s eyes again and prayed that her instincts had been right. It would be so easy for the inventor to wait for Leena to go to bed and then sneak out the door in the middle of the night, driving no matter how carelessly, until she could hop on the nearest coach or train to nowhere. But she had promised to let Myka be a part of her life. It wasn’t much of a promise, but it had clearly been made with the understanding that their future, together or apart, would be anything but simple.

Myka chose to put her faith in that.

Not a soul stirred in Univille as she drove through the sleepy town and, with relief, turned off the engine of Pete’s four by four and climbed wearily out. She followed the porch-light lit path to the front  door and crept inside noiselessly. The first thing she spotted were the two new pairs of shoes by the door and she sighed happily; one pair was notably smaller than the other.

The house was quiet. Even creeping passed the inventor’s door there was nothing and Myka had to keep those child-sized shoes in mind to stay focussed on the task of preparing for bed so that she wouldn’t succumb to a panic attack.

She eventually heard the tell-tale sounds of Claudia, Pete and Steve arriving home and was surprised to find that she didn’t feel guilty about Artie’s absence. In her mind she watched as they all settled for the night and felt as the house fell sleepy again. Still her eyes stayed open. She was beyond exhaustion; should not have physically been able to stay awake, and yet her mind still whirred like it was powered by some external force.

HG’s door opened with barely a creak but Myka still found herself wincing at the intrusive noise. Her eyes were well adjusted to the dark and she noted with a heavy heart that the double bed was empty. Panic rose again in her chest, until her gaze fell on the child sound asleep across the room.

A smile tugged at her lips without thought and her feet carried her in a similar fashion to the girl’s side. Kneeling by the side of the bed, Myka ignored the practical voice in her head that told her she shouldn’t be there. Leaning down to press a tender kiss to Christina’s forehead felt as natural as hugging her parents or kissing her sister goodbye after a heartfelt talk. For whatever reason, she was bound to this child now and would do whatever was in her power to keep her safe from harm.

A movement in the corner of the room caught the agent’s attention and she was immediately on high-alert, standing swiftly and angling her body to protect Christina’s. As a lithe figure stepped out of the shadows though, she relaxed.

“Helena,” she whispered lovingly and took several steps towards the Brit before stopping to reconsider her reception. HG’s expression was tense, her haunted eyes carrying the pain of prolonged torture and complete fatigue. “Helena? What are you doing in the corner of the room?” Myka asked, attempting to be both considerate and practical.

The inventor’s eyes pooled with tears and she wrapped her arms around herself, looking fearfully over at her daughter. Myka forgot her trepidation and instinctively reached out to comfort the other woman. She could sense the imminent breakdown that hovered around the Victorian and wanted to soften that fall as much as possible.

Without trying to elicit a verbal response, Myka coaxed Helena over to the inventor’s bed and pulled her into it. HG was reluctant to comply and give up control, but had no energy to put up much of a fight. She allowed the younger agent to pull her head onto a waiting shoulder and took a long deep breath through her tears.

Myka kissed the top of the dark head and ran her fingers soothingly through silky hair. “She’s right there, Helena.” They both had a good view of the young girl and though their eyes stung with a lack of sleep, the two women gazed with fascination at the small miracle that slept soundly.

Helena’s voice was tense and full of emotion, her words lacking their usual smooth clarity as she finally found the ability to respond. “I’m afraid that this is going to be something of a challenge, darling,” she sniffed and accepted a tissue that her companion conjured out of nowhere. “I want her to have a normal life, full of opportunity and wonder... I can’t even let her sleep without fearing for her safety.”

Myka continued her gentle stroking as she considered what she wanted to say. While never having experiences a loss like Helena’s, she could understand and empathise with the inventor’s fears. “I don’t know that I can say anything to make you feel any less afraid of losing her, but as long as you want me around Helena, I’ll be here, for you and Christina.” She felt HG’s arms wrap tighter around her and watched as dark eyes fluttered shut for a longer moment. “I don’t know quite what happened in that place,” Myka swallowed with difficulty, her mouth having gone dry. What would the writer think to this intense connection she felt towards Christina? “Something’s different.”

Helena’s head rose in alarm to gaze up at Myka. “What do you mean? Are you ill?” The very idea, voiced, sent a new pang of panic through her body, forcing her to sit up straighter. “Myka, you just promised never to leave me; do not begin to tell me that it may only be in spirit or thought... I do not believe that I could...” Tears were now falling in earnest and she felt the sudden urge to hit the younger woman for crushing her hopes again.

Myka scrambled to calm the Victorian down, having been taken completely by surprise at HG’s outburst. Helena was terrified of losing her too? What did this mean? “I’m fine, Helena. I’m not going anywhere. I plan to be with you, mind, body and soul for as long as you want me around.” She felt the inventor’s body sag, collapsing into her arms.

“What did you mean then?” HG asked at length.

Myka knew she couldn’t hesitate any longer; couldn’t let Helena worry over the unknown. “I didn’t expect to feel this way about her. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I feel like she’s a part of me,” her voice became reverent as she looked over at the sleeping child. She felt, more than saw, HG’s surprise.

Helena glanced between Myka and Christina. She recognised the look in the agent’s eyes and felt a wave of utter delight crash through her. “You love her,” she said in a strangled voice.

Myka gazed down at the bedclothes in shame, mistaking the inventor’s tone. “Like she’d my own,” she confessed anyway and then looked up with guilt-filled eyes. “I’m sorry Helena. You only just have her back and here I am already trying to make a claim on her. I really didn’t mean to feel this way.”

Helena pulled Myka in close, placing a kiss on her forehead. “Shh, do not distress yourself love. You are absolutely right. With anyone else, I would be incensed to hear them claim the same devotion as my own. But Myka,” she lifted the brunette’s chin so they were eye to eye. “If anyone is worthy of sharing this feeling with me, it is you.”

“You’re not upset?” Myka chanced looking into dark sleepy eyes, saw more than skin deep affection there and for a moment, she dared to hope. On the tip of her tongue sat three little words that she longed to say, but something told her that it was too early. More relief than disappointment filled her mind though; there might still be a time and a place for such declarations.

Helena shook her head with her last ounce of strength and sank with a sigh into the pillows, pulling Myka down with her. She wrapped a lazy arm around the younger woman’s waist. “Not at all darling. I am quite relieved, truth be told; we will be safe with you.”

Agent Bering beamed at her companion, her top lip quirking in the unique way it did when she was truly happy about something, and wriggled closer before finally succumbing to the heaviness of her eyelids.

 “Myka?” Helena whispered, semi-conscious.

“Hmm?”

“I will always want you around.”

As they joined their little one in slumber, darkness waned beyond the windowpane; the dawn of a new day rising.


End file.
